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SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Books by 

ABBIE PHILLIPS WALKER 


Sandman’s Christmas Stories 
The Sandman’s Hour 
Sandman’s Twilight Stories 
Sandman Tales 
Told by the Sandman 
Sandman’s Rainy Day Stories 
Sandman’s Stories of Drusilla Doll 
Sandman’s Good-Night Stories 
Sandman’s Might-Be-So Stories 
Sandman’s Fairy Stories 


Harper & Brothers 

Publishers 



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“then in I DASHED BETWEEN THE NORTH WIND AND THE EASt” 

[See p. 151 


Sandman's 

MigKt-Be-So 

Stories 



i^Abbie Phillips \yaJkeir»-** 

J{(u9trated by Rhodes C- Chtvsc*- 
Harper ^ Brothers. Publisher^ 




SANDMAN'S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Copyright, 1922 
By Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the U. S. A. 


First Edition 

K-W 


NOV 24 '22 


©C1A600338 


CONTENTS 


PACE 

Those Who Watched Mr, Coon 3 

The Wedding Breakfast 9 

Mr. Fox and the Stoat Family 16 

The Four-footed Club 23 

The Uninvited Guests 29 

Mr. Bear’s Farewell Party 36 

Jack Rabbit and Mr, Turtle 42 

Grandmother Rabbit’s Story 48 

Judge Owl’s Cleverness 53 

How Miss Springtime Was Stolen 57 

How Sunflower Became an Outcast 64 

Jack Frost’s Sweetheart 68 

Why Dan De Lion Grows White 72 

The White World 75 

The Catbird 80 

Jennie Wren Tells Mr. Cardinal What She Thinks. . 84 

Mr. Owl and His Caller 87 

Mr. Robin and the Signboard 92 

SuZETTE AND THE BuTCHER .. 97 

Little Image Man 102 

.Knitted Gentleman Ned 107 

China Shepherdess and the Picture 109 

Lafayette 114 

‘Reynard’s Scheme 127 

How Mr. Fox Proved His Friends 136 

.What Happened in a Garden 141 

The Quarrel of the Months 145 

The Battle of the Winds 149 

Calla Lhy’s Cousin 154 





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ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Then in I Dashed Between the North Wind 
AND THE East” Frontispiece 

He Saw Who Was in His Bed, and Then He 
Smiled a Most Unpleasant Smile Facing p. 40 

“They Were All There This Morning,” Said 
Mr. Crow, Looking Around at His Tail “ 56 

So She Looked at Him Very Sorrowfully and 
Told Him Her Sad Tale 


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SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 




THOSE WHO WATCHED MR. COON 


W HEN Mr. Coon came to the woods to 
live none of the wood dwellers had ever 
met any of his family, so, of course, they knew 
nothing about the curious habit the Raccoon 
has of washing all meat before eating it. 

One day as Reddy Fox was trotting through 
the woods he spied Mr. Coon with a basket 
on his arm going toward the river that ran 
through the woods. 

He did not see Reddy, and as Reddy dearly 
loves to watch when he is not seen, he quickly 
hid himself behind some bushes to see what 
Mr. Coon was going to do, and, to his aston- 
ishment, he saw him take from the basket 
some meat, and, holding it in his forepaws, 
souse it about in the water and then eat it. 

‘That is the funniest thing I ever saw,’’ 
thought Reddy Fox. ‘T must tell all the wood 
folk about this, and we will all come down 
here and watch him.” 

But before he did this Reddy made sure 
that Mr. Coon came each day to the river to 
3 


4 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


do the same thing, for he was rather doubt- 
ful that this was a regular thing with Mr. 
Coon. Reddy could not understand why he 
did not eat the meat just as he did — just as 
soon as he got it. 

Mr. Coon has sharp eyes, and one day while 
Reddy was watching he became too curious 
and poked his head out too far from his hid- 
ing place so that Mr. Coon caught sight of 
him. 'Watching me, is he?’’ thought Mr. 
Coon. 'Well, I will fix him to-morrow.” 

Reddy had just decided that to-morrow 
would be the day he would bring along all the 
wood folks to watch the queer habit Mr. Coon 
had, and so the next day Mr. Squirrel and 
Billy Possum and Mr. Rabbit and even Mr. 
Badger was prevailed upon to break his habit 
of staying at home in the daytime, and all of 
them followed Reddy Fox down by the river 
and hid behind the bushes nearby. 

"I really do not like this,” said gentle Mr. 
Badger. "Something tells me I should not 
have come,” and he flattened himself on the 
ground until he looked like a doormat, Reddy 
Fox said. 

Mr. Coon had been watching from the top 
of a tree and saw all the wood folk following 


THOSE WHO WATCHED MR. COON 5 


Mr. Reddy down to the river. ‘‘Going to give 
me the laugh I suppose when I wash my food? 
Well, we will see who does the laughing, my 
friends and neighbors. I rather think it won’t 
be Mr. Fox, any way; and I am sure you all 
will be surprised.” 

Mr. Coon was so full of laugh that he could 
hardly get down the tree thinking of what 
was going to happen, for he knew that the 
river bottom was muddy and the water not 
very deep. 

It was deep enough for him to wash his 
food without stirring it up and to help him 
to carry out the plan he had in mind to give 
all the watchers a surprise. 

Mr. Coon shuffled off home to get his basket, 
while all the animals arranged themselves be- 
hind the bushes, and, with listening ears, 
waited to see the fun. 

At last they heard him and, peeping through 
the branches, they saw Mr. Coon dragging a 
basket along the ground ; he was not carrying 
it on his arm, as usual. 

“He has it chock-full this morning; it will 
be great fun to watch him,” whispered Reddy 
to the others when he caught sight of Mr. 
Coon tugging the basket along. 


6 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


When Mr. Coon reached the river he sat 
down and took the cover off his basket, and 
all the animals stretched their necks to see 
what he was going to do, even Mr. Badger 
got up from his doormat position on the 
ground and looked too, leaning against the 
bushes with his forepaws to make himself 
taller. 

Mr. Squirrel ran up one bush that was 
stronger than the others so he could have all 
the view there was, and Mr. Rabbit hopped out 
to the very edge of the bushes close to a stone 
that was about the color of his coat, for he 
knew he would see but little of the queer sight 
from behind the bushes. 

Mr. Possum found a tree close by, and hang- 
ing by his tail from a low limb where he could 
not miss anything, he waited for what was to 
happen next. Reddy Fox could plainly see all 
that was going on, for he was never backward 
in coming forward when there was anything 
worth seeing. 

Mr. Coon, of course, knew they were all 
there and he did not hurry a bit. After he 
removed the cover he reached slowly into the 
basket, looking across the river for a minute 
and then when he felt sure they were all 


THOSE WHO WATCHED MR. COON 7 


Stretching their necks and watching he sud- 
denly tipped the basket. 

But instead of the pieces of meat Reddy Fox 
had told them he had in the basket, Mr. Coon 
rolled into the river a rock that struck the 
bottom with such force that the muddy water 
splashed all around and covered the watchers 
from head to toes. 

Mr. Coon looked very innocent as he picked 
up the cover and placed it on the basket and 
then walked away; he could hear the wood 
folks scrambling about trying to rub the mud 
from their coats, and he had hard work to 
wait until he was out of sound and sight to 
laugh. 

But he did, and after rolling over and over 
on the ground and laughing as he thought how 
surprised the watchers must have been, he sud- 
denly stopped and sat up, for he heard some 
one coming through the woods. 

Mr. Coon jumped up and ran to a hiding 
place and pretty soon he saw all the animals 
trudging along dripping wet and scolding Mr. 
Fox roundly for the trick they felt sure he had 
played on them. 

‘‘Now, listen,’’ Reddy was saying, ‘‘he never 

did that before,” but the wood folks would not 
2 


8 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


believe him, for they said he was a foxy fellow 
and this was only another of his tricks. 

Mr. Possum said his coat was spoiled, it was 
now a grayish white and it would not rub off, 
and Mr. Badger showed a soiled white front 
where the water had splashed on him when he 
stood on his hind legs to watch. 

'T shall never be able to walk upright again,’" 
he said sadly, ‘Tor this mud will not rub off and 
I could never let anyone see that the front of 
my coat is not clean.” 

Mr. Rabbit did not say anything, but Mr. 
Squirrel chattered angrily as he ran off to tell 
everyone he knew about the muddy trick Reddy 
Fox had played upon his friends, and they all 
forgot about the queer habit they were told Mr. 
Coon had of washing his food, they were so 
busy being angry at Reddy Fox. 

As he curled himself up for a sleep in a high 
tree top, Mr. Coon thought that for one day 
he could go without eating meat, for he had 
turned the tables upon Reddy Fox and he had 
been the one who laughed. 


THE WEDDING BREAKFAST 


O LD GRANNY QUACK heard it firsf, and 
she put on her bonnet at once, for she 
never let anyone get ahead of her telling news 
in the barnyard. 

''Yes,’’ she said, looking over her spectacles, 
"Miss Penny Hen is going to be married down 
in the grove by the pond to-morrow morning 
early, before the sun is up, so Parson Owl can 
see whom he is marrying.” 

Miss Penny Hen did not have to send out 
invitations, for everybody knew about the wed- 
ding and everybody expected to be invited, so 
the next morning early everybody was there. 
The bridegroom was handsome Mr. Rooster, 
from the next farm, and Miss Penny Hen was 
going to leave the barnyard where she had 
been brought up for a new home right after the 
wedding. 

All the Ducks took a very early swim that 
morning, and were waddling up the bank just 
as the other guests came into the grove. 

The Hens and Chickens found nice seats on 


9 


10 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


the rocks, and the Turkeys perched on the 
limbs of trees, where they could see everything 
that happened, and old Granny Quack waddled 
to a very front seat, so near the bridal party 
that Parson Owl had to ask her to get off 
his tail feathers. 

Mr. Crow was just flying over to the corn- 
field when he happened to glance down, and 
he quite forgot his breakfast, for he did not 
intend to miss anything that went on, no matter 
whether he was invited or not. 

‘‘Now I wonder what all that crowd is up 
to?’’ he said, flying down to a limb, where he 
could see. “Huh, nothing to eat ! A fine wed- 
ding, I should say, without a breakfast! I 
sha’n’t stay, even to watch old Parson Owl fly 
home afterward and bump his head against all 
the trees, as he is sure to do.” 

But just as he was flying over the field Mr. 
Crow saw Mr. Fox creeping along through the 
tall grass. 

“Going to the wedding?” he asked. “Of 
course you were invited, Mr. Fox, but you are 
late. Parson Owl had already married them 
when I left.” 

Mr. Fox was not at all pleased that Mr. 
Crow had spied him, but he pretended he was 


THE WEDDING BREAKFAST 


11 


on his way to the pond for a drink of water, 
and that the wedding did not interest him, 
which wasn't at all true, for he had gone to 
the barnyard the day before to get a nice 
plump chicken for his dinner, and he heard 
Granny Quack telling the news, so he decided 
to wait, and when the guests were all there to 
help himself to the very nicest one he could find. 

^'Ha, ha !" cawed Mr. Crow loudly. ‘‘You're 
a sleek talker, Mr. Fox, but you can't pull the 
wool over my eyes." 

And then Mr. Crow flew away, or at least 
Mr. Fox thought he did, for he watched until 
he was out of sight, flying in the opposite direc- 
tion from where the wedding was going on. 
But Mr. Crow turned around and flew back 
another way, and Mr. Fox did not see him. 
He got to the grove just as everybody was 
starting for the barnyard for the wedding 
breakfast. 

“Ah, I am a lucky bird !" thought Mr. Crow, 
and down he flew, right into the midst of the 
wedding party. “Mr. Fox is coming on the 
run," he announced; “he heard there was to 
be a wedding, and he wants to get here in time 
for the breakfast." 

Everybody ran, excepting Mr. Crow, and 


12 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


he flew ; and by the time Mr. Fox reached the 
grove there was nothing to be seen but a few 
feathers. And when he crept around the side 
of the barn to see if there was a chance of get- 
ting one stray hen, there was Mr. Crow eating 
breakfast with the wedding party right in the 
center of the group. 

^That rascal, he told,” said Mr. Fox. But 
Mr. Dog came along and chased him over the 
fields, and Mr. Fox went home without his 
breakfast, wondering how he could pay Mr. 
Crow for cheating him out of it. 

Mr. Crow cawed loudly and long at Mr. Fox 
when the next day he saw him down by the 
pond. ^Why didn’t you come to the wedding 
breakfast?” he asked. ^'Everybody was so 
upset because you were not there.” 

Mr. Fox looked up at Mr. Crow sitting on 
a limb of the tree over him and said in smooth 
tones : ‘T had a bone in my foot and could not 
get there, but I am sure you were there, Mr. 
Crow, and how could they miss anyone when 
they had the pleasure of your company?” 

Mr. Crow could not talk as well as Mr. Fox, 
so he just cawed and flew away, but if he had 
seen the look in the eyes of Mr. Fox he would 
have been on the lookout for a while. He 


THE WEDDING BREAKFAST 


13 


didn’t, however, and in fact he forgot all 
about the wedding breakfast very soon, for it 
was his busy season of the year — looking after 
all the newly planted cornfields. 

Mr. Crow was a wise old fellow and it took 
more than a raggedy-looking man standing in 
a cornfield to scare him away, and even a man 
with a gun did not frighten him if he was near 
the woods. 

Mr. Fox knew this and he did not intend to 
catch Mr. Crow or harm him, but what he did 
plan to do was to scare him nearly out of his 
wits, which he did, as you will learn. 

One morning before it was light, Mr. Fox 
was coming home from a hunting trip and 
crossing a cornfield he happened to see a very 
good looking scarecrow ; in fact, he had jumped 
when he saw it, it was so well dressed. 

When he saw his mistake Mr. Fox smiled, 
and a smile means from Mr. Fox that he has 
something on his mind. He walked right over 
to the scarecrow and for a few minutes he was 
very busy, and when he finished being busy he 
was dressed in the clothes of the scarecrow and 
standing there just as natural as could be. 

He knew he would have to wait until day- 
break and perhaps a little longer, but the fun 


14 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


he would have would be worth the trouble, he 
was sure of that. So he stood quite still, only 
when the wind blew, and then he waved his 
raggedy arms and rested his legs by changing 
his position a little. 

By and by, when the sky was gray and 
streaks of light showed over the hill where Mr. 
Sun was making ready to get up, along came 
Mr. Crow and perched on the rail fence by the 
cornfield. He gave a careless glance at the 
scarecrow and after casting his bright eyes 
about he flew right over to the field and perched 
on one arm of the scarecrow and cawed loudly 
his scorn : 

“Old raggedy scarecrow, you can’t frighten me, 

For I’m a brave bird, as all can see. 

I can see through you with one sharp eye, 

You can’t fool me, so you needn’t try.” 

Just as he finished cawing Mr. Crow turned 
to peck at the coat sleeve on which he was sit- 
ting, when Mr. Fox gave a jump and barked. 

Mr. Crow was so frightened that his wings 
just flopped at his sides. He almost fell to the 
ground, but he was away in another second 
and Mr. Fox rolled over and over on the 
ground laughing. 

Of course, Mr. Crow did not stop to see who 


THE WEDDING BREAKFAST 


15 


it was inside the raggedy clothes. He went as 
far as he could from that cornfield, but when 
next day Mr. Fox saw him sitting on a branch 
near the field, he was looking very carefully at 
the scarecrow waving its arms in the breeze. 

“Old raggedy scarecrow, you can’t frighten me, 

For I’m a brave bird, as all can see. 

I can see through you with one sharp eye, 

You can’t fool me, so you needn’t try.” 

Mr. Fox sang this loudly as he walked by, 
hidden by the bushes, but Mr. Crow heard him 
and away he flew without giving one caw. 

"‘I guess he will keep out of my affairs after 
this, meddling old fellow,’’ said Mr. Fox as he 
trotted off home. 


MR. FOX AND THE STOAT FAMILY 


I T was winter time in the wood, and the Four- 
Footed Club sat around the fire talking over 
their affairs, for they had cooked the last turkey 
and the last of the wood was now burning. 

'Tn all my long experience,’' said Mr. Fox, 
‘T have never known food to be so scarce, and 
what there is of it is so poor I doubt sometimes 
if Mr. Man can be feeding his fowl as he 
should.” 

‘T think Mr. Dog gets more than his share,” 
said Mr. Coon, ‘Tor he seems strong enough. 
He can run just as far as ever, as far as I can 
see.” 

‘T should not be surprised if he were to 
blan:s,” said Mr. Possum, “for our hard luck; 
maybe he eats up everything that Mr. Man 
gives to the poultry, he is so strong and big; 
very likely he takes it away from those poor 
things.” 

“No, it isn’t Mr. Dog who is to blame, if I 
am any guesser,” said Mr. Fox, settling back 
in his chair, and taking from his mouth his 
16 


MR. FOX AND THE STOAT FAMILY 17 

corncob pipe, ‘^but I think I can tell you who is 
to blame for our not having anything in our 
piintry.’’ 

Mr. Fox dearly loved to spring a surprise on 
his four-footed friends, so he did not say any 
more, but replaced his pipe and took a long, 
deep draw and let the smoke come out of his 
mouth in rings, while Mr. Coon and Mr. Pos- 
sum sat right up straight in their chairs and 
waited for him to tell who was taking their 
food from them. 

But Mr. Fox wished to be asked and did not 
stop smoking until Mr. Coon could stand it no 
longer and asked: ‘WHO is taking our food? 
Tell us, if you know!’’ 

‘Well, perhaps I should not say he is taking 
it right away from us, but certainly if he and 
his family were not around we would have no 
trouble in getting plenty to eat.” 

“But WHO is it?” asked Mr. Possum, sitting 
on the very edge of his chair, with impatience. 
“Whoisit, Mr. Fox? Tell us that!” 

Mr. Fox cleared his throat and knocked the 
ashes from his pipe on the side of the fireplace 
before he replied, while Mr. Coon and Mr. Pos- 
sum leaned over from their chairs until they 
almost tipped out of them. 


18 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


When Mr. Fox had begun to refill his pipe, 
he said : ‘Tt is Mr. Stoat and family. Yes, that 
whole stuck-up family are to blame, and when 
I think of that miserable, sneaking lot I feel I 
should do something desperate!’^ 

‘'But I do not see how they take away our 
supply,'’ said Mr. Coon. ‘T have never seen 
them around here." 

“No, of course not," said Mr. Fox. “But 
don't you know that the whole Stoat family 
has new white coats, and that it can get around 
in the snow without being seen much easier 
than I can, or either of you fellows?" 

Mr. Coon, who was always falling asleep, 
began to nod as soon as he heard who it was 
that Mr. Fox thought was to blame. But Mr. 
Fox gave him a poke in the side and said: 
“Wake up, Mr. Coon, wake up ! I have an idea, 
and we may be able to get rid of the Stoats or 
their white coats, anyway, of which they are 
so proud." 

Mr. Coon opened his eyes and sat up, for 
when Mr. Fox had an idea it was usually worth 
hearing. 

“I hope it will not take you so long to tell 
your idea, Mr. Fox, as it did to tell us who is 
to blame for our lack of food," said Mr. Pos- 


MR. FOX AND THE STOAT FAMILY 19 

sum, wishing to avoid the long wait they had 
in finding out about the Stoat family. 

But Mr. Fox was not to be hurried, now that 
he had Mr. Coon wide awake and Mr. Possum 
so interested he could not do a thing but listen. 
Mr. Fox was in no hurry to tell his idea. 

‘That Stoat family, when I was a youngster, 
used to be called the Weasel family, and when 
they are not dressed in those fine white coats 
of theirs they wear a very homely brown one, 
and are a very common-looking family ; so they 
need not put on airs with me.^' 

“Are you going to catch them?” asked Mr. 
Coon. “If you are, you need not ask me to 
help; for I want nothing to do with that 
family.” 

“Nor I,” said Mr. Possum. “If you go chas- 
ing those fellows, you go alone!” 

“Oh! I am not going to chase them,” said 
Mr. Fox, “ though I should like to take a little 
of their conceit out of them. They are so 
proud and they think their tails are as hand- 
some as mine. Think of that !” 

“Well, that black tip that some of them wear 
certainly does show ofif well on their long white 
tails,” said Mr. Possum, “though I do not ad- 
mire any part of one of those fellows !” 


20 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


should hope not!’’ said Mr. Fox. ^‘They 
are far from handsome in the summertime, and 
what is the use of looking fine in the winter, 
iwhen there are so few running about to see 
you? That is what I should like to know.” 

‘'Yes, you are right,” said Mr. Coon. “But 
what about that idea of yours? You have not 
told that to us yet.” 

“I thought of a plan to drive away that Stoat 
family,” said Mr. Fox, “but I must have some 
help, and there is no chasing in it ; so you two 
need not get uneasy. 

“I want you to go with me up to Mr. Man’s 
barn. There are plenty of rats in there, and 
there is also a big pail of black paint, and that 
is where we put it over Mr. Stoat and family.” 

“What! The paint?” asked Mr. Coon. “I 
shall not touch one of those creatures if you 
expect to paint them.” 

“Now wait, and hear all I have to say,” re- 
plied Mr. Fox. “Yes, I do mean to paint them, 
but we will let them do the painting. All I 
want you two to do is to go with me and help 
spill the paint. 

“I’ll tip it over, but some one must watch, 
for Mr. Dog is to be reckoned with and also 
traps, and such things !” 


MR. FOX AND THE STOAT FAMILY 21 


Mr. Coon and Mr. Possum said they were 
perfectly willing to help in a case like that. So 
up to Mr. Man's they went when it was dark 
and still and made a nice opening under a loose 
board back of the barn. 

Mr. Coon and Mr. Possum watched outside, 
while in went Mr. Fox and found the paint pots 
there — two pretty good-sized ones — and he 
tipped them both over near the hole. 

When he came out, instead of coming out 
where he went in, he climbed to the hay loft 
and leaped out of a window, landing on the 
ground so near Mr. Coon that he jumped and 
ran for a tree, where he stayed, until Mr. Fox, 
when he could stop laughing, said : 

‘^Got you treed, haven't I, Mr. Coon? But, 
you know, I could not come out through the 
hole with all that paint running over the floor." 

Mr. Coon did not feel very pleasant, but he 
came down and joined Mr. Fox and Mr. Pos- 
sum, and soon forgot his upset as they hid be- 
hind a big rock near a tree to watch for the 
Stoat family. 

‘‘There they are!" whispered Mr. Possum, 
who was watching in the tree. 

They stopped right by the hole in the barn 
and in went Father Stoat, followed by Mother 


22 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


and all the little Stoats. Just what happened 
inside Mr. Fox and his friends never knew. 
But when the Stoat family came out they could 
be plainly seen against the white snow, for 
everyone of that Stoat family was black. 

Whether the farmer tracked them by the 
paint or whether they felt so disgraced by hav- 
ing their fine white coats spoiled, Mr. Fox and 
his friends never knew; but they disappeared 
from around those parts and the farmyard was 
not so carefully guarded after that. 

‘That certainly was a fine idea you had, 
Mr. Fox,’’ said Mr. Possum one night soon 
after, in the Four-Footed Club, as they sat at 
dinner. ‘T never ate a finer bird !” 

“Your ideas are all right,” said Mr. Coon, 
“but I get all fussed up waiting to hear them.” 

“A good story with an idea at the end is 
worth waiting to hear,” said the Fox, as he 
helped himself to another piece of turkey. 


THE FOUR-FOOTED CLUB 


M r. fox went over to Billy Possum's one 
morning and told him a plan he had and 
then they went to Tim Coon and told him about 
it. ''We think if we could get Mr. Dog to 
come over here to the woods," said Mr. Fox 
to Tim Coon, "that we would find it easier 
hunting up on Mr. Man's farm." 

"But who is going to get Mr. Dog to come?" 
asked Tim. "I do not want to be the one to 
carry the invitation to him." 

"Oh! I am going to send it over by Jim 
Crow," said Mr. Fox. "That is safe enough 
and I shall have Jim tell him that we think it 
time all of us were friends; we all belong to 
the four-footed race." 

So olf the three went to find Jim Crow and 
they found him in good humor, for he had just 
dined on the corn Mr. Man had planted. 

"Yes, I'll take your invitation to him," said 
Jim. "But what do I get out of it; do I get 
invited, too?" 

"Why, of course," said Mr. Fox, "you are 
3 23 


24 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


invited to the party, and you shall have all the 
corn you can eat. I’ll get a bagful from Mr. 
Man’s barn this very night. No one else will 
like it, so you will have all you can eat.” 

''Hope he chokes, too,” whispered Mr. Fox 
to Tim Coon. "Did you ever see such a greedy 
fellow? Wouldn’t do a little thing like that 
for a friend without asking for pay.” 

"Well, what shall I tell him ?” asked Jim Crow, 
with his head cocked on one side to listen. 

"Tell him we want him to come to our party. 
It is going to be at my house to-night,” said 
Mr. Fox. 

"You can’t get the corn for me until to- 
night,” said Jim. 

"Oh, well. I’ll get it as soon as it is dark, 
before the party begins,” said Mr. Fox. 

"Did you ever see such a fellow, afraid he 
won’t get his pay?” whispered Mr. Fox to Tim 
and Billy. 

"And tell Mr. Dog that we have decided that 
we shall not go over to Mr. Man’s any more,” 
said Mr. Fox. "We want to be friends with 
him and have him belong to our Four-Footed 
Club.” 

"But I thought you said you were going over 
there to get my corn, so how can I tell Mr. Dog 


THE FOUR-FOOTED CLUB 


25 


that you are not going to Mr. Man’s any more? 
Don’t you intend to pay me?” asked Jim Crow, 
sticking out his head in a very angry manner. 

‘'Of course you will be paid,” said Mr. Fox, 
going closer under the tree and looking up at 
Jim with a smile, ‘T just meant that we three 
were not going to bother Mr. Man’s hen coops 
any more, don’t you see?” 

“Oh,” said Jim Crow, stretching his wings, 
“well I’ll tell Mr. Dog what you say, but don’t 
forget the corn.” 

“No, I won’t forget it,” said Mr. Fox, “and 
I won’t get it either,” he added to Tim and 
Billy Possum, “the old greedy bill, let him caw 
for the corn ; he will tell Mr. Dog, and that is 
all we care.” 

They watched Jim Crow out of sight and sat 
down to wait for his return, and then Mr. Fox 
told Tim and Billy Possum how he intended 
to keep Mr. Dog away from the farm for one 
night at least. 

“You see they always play games at a party,” 
said Mr. Fox, as they sat waiting for Jim Crow 
to return, “and we will play blind man’s buff ; 
then, after a while, we will blind Mr. Dog, only 
we will put on the blinder so he can’t get it off, 
and there he will have to stay. 


26 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


^The rest is easy; we will run over the hill 
and help ourselves to the fowl without having 
to think about Mr. Dog barking and waking 
everybody up.” 

Tim Coon and Billy Possum thought Mr. 
Fox was the very wisest fellow they knew, and 
they were laughing about the trick they would 
play Mr. Dog when Jim Crow returned. 

'‘He says he will be glad to come to your 
party,” said Jim Crow; "he says he is tired of 
staying awake nights to chase you fellows and 
will be very glad to be friends and join the 
Four-Footed Club.” 

Mr. Fox thanked Jim and away he flew, but 
he called back, "Don’t forget my corn; I’ll be 
there early.” 

"We must change the place to have the 
party,” said Mr. Fox as soon as Jim Crow flew 
away. "If we don’t he’ll make a great fuss 
when he finds out there is no corn for him, and 
there isn’t going to be any. 

"And then you see he might help Mr. Dog 
to get off the bandage after we run off, so we 
must meet Mr. Dog at the edge of the woods 
and take him over to your house, Tim.” 

That night just as the moon came up and 
shone very faintly through the trees into the 


THE FOUR-FOOTED CLUB 


27 


woods, Tim Coon and Billy Possum and Mr. 
Fox waited to meet Mr. Dog. He was all 
dressed up in his red coat and green trousers, 
so the three waiters felt safe. 

Oif they all trotted to Tim Coon's house, but 
if they had looked up they might have seen over 
their heads a little behind them Jim Crow. 

Jim Crow happened to be sitting in the tree 
right over their heads as the three waited for 
Mr. Dog and he heard that the party was to 
be at Tim Coon's instead of at Mr. Fox's. 

‘That is queer," he thought. ‘T'll just watch. 
If they try to play any tricks I'll fool them." 

When they reached Tim's house Jim Crow 
flew to a tree and watched. He could hear 
them laughing and running, so he flew in the 
pantry window and looked about. 

When he found there was no corn in the 
pantry Jim Crow was pretty angry. He flew 
back and waited and pretty soon the door of 
Tim Coon’s house opened and out ran Tim and 
Billy Possum and Mr. Fox and away they flew 
through the woods. 

“Now, what does that mean, I wonder," said 
Jim. “I wonder where Mr. Dog can be. I'll 
look in the window and see." 

When he looked in, there was Mr. Dog, with 


28 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


his eyes bandaged, walking around the room 
on his hind legs and trying to find the others, 
and then Jim Crow saw that Mr. Dog’s front 
paws were tied behind him. 

“They played it on you, too,” said Jim, flying 
in and picking at the bandage over Mr. Dog’s 
eyes. 

“Where are they?” asked Mr. Dog, looking 
about when the bandage was off. “We were 
playing blind man’s buff.” 

“But why have you got your paws tied be- 
hind you?” asked Jim Crow. 

“That is the way they play at the Four- 
Footed Club,” explained Mr. Dog. 

“Well, you run over the hill and see what 
those three rogues are doing, and you will 
understand more about this game than you do 
now,” said Jim Crow. “I think I understand 
more than I did this morning, and you tell them 
I sent you, Mr. Dog.” 

Very much in a hurry Tim Coon and Mr. Fox 
and Billy Possum came over the hill soon after, 
and when he saw them Jim Crow called out: 

“Been after my corn?” 

But they did not answer. They ran right on, 
never stopping until they were in their homes 
and the doors locked behind them. 


THE UNINVITED GUESTS 


M r. crow was good and angry when he 
found out that there was a dinner to be 
held at the Four-Footed Club, and he was not 
invited. 

‘T don’t care if I have only two feet. That 
ought not to keep me from getting an invita- 
tion even if I cannot become a member,” said 
Mr. Crow, as he hopped about on the ground, 
picking at worms and bugs with an unusually 
hard peck. 

‘‘What is a leg or two among friends, I 
should like to know, and if I have not been a 
friend more than once to most of those four- 
footed fellows I should like very much to be 
told what a friend really is. 

“More than once I have cawed at Mr. Rabbit 
when he was in the garden up at Mr. Man’s 
when I saw, a long way off, Mr. Dog coming, 
and then there is Mr. Fox. I told him where 
there was a nice fat hen on the ground all ready 
for him to eat. 

“Of course I was not to blame that the hen 


29 


30 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


was fixed with something that made Mr. Fox 
sick and nearly killed him, the kindness was 
just the same on my part. 

‘Then there is Mr. Coon. Didn’t I tell him 
where the sugar cane was last year and he said 
himself he never ate better. Of course, I found 
out for sure when he went in the field that the 
man who stood there was only a scarecrow, but 
I did Mr. Coon a kindness just the same. 

“And now they all are having a dinner and 
have not invited me. There is Woody Chuck; 
I wonder if he has been invited?” 

Woody said he had and that he heard they 
were to have a fine dinner, which made Mr. 
Crow more angry than ever. 

Up he flew to a limb of a tree, chattering as 
hard as he could, when he happened to look 
over in a field and there he saw Mrs. Skunk 
with her eight children following her one after 
another. 

At first they did not interest Mr. Crow at all 
and then he suddenly thought of something. 
“I wonder if I could work that,” he said. 
“That would let me pay ofif two debts at once. 
I believe I will try it, anyway.” 

Ofif he fled across the road to where Mrs. 
Skunk was walking with her young children. 


THE UNINVITED GUESTS 31 

'^How do you do, Mrs. Skunk? What a fine 
lot of children you have this year,'’ he said. 

Mr. Crow was up so high that he did not 
mind startling Mrs. Skunk and he did scare her 
at first, but she soon saw who it was and 
stopped to speak to him. 

‘‘Oh, Mrs. Skunk," said Mr. Crow, “I have 
been selected to invite all the guests for the 
dinner to-night at the Four-Footed Club in the 
woods, and they wished me particularly to in- 
vite you and bring all of your children, and of 
course your husband as well !" 

Mrs. Skunk was very much pleased when she 
heard this, for she and her husband did not 
often receive a welcome from the other wood 
folk when they went near their homes. 

“Well, now, that is kind of them," she said. 
“Tell them we will be there early." 

“I would not go too early, my dear Mrs. 
Skunk," said sly Mr. Crow. “You know that 
most of those animals do not like to get out 
until it is very dark, so if I were you I would 
not go until late." 

Mrs. Skunk said she would do just as he 
said, for she did not go about much these days 
and did not know just how things should be 
done. Mr. Crow flew away to the woods be- 


32 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


fore he had a good laugh over what he had 
done ; for well he knew that Mrs. Skunk or any 
of her family would be far from welcome at the 
Four-Footed Club dinner that night. 

‘T guess they will wish they had asked a cer-' 
tain party with only two feet he said, as he 
hopped about with glee at the thought of what 
might happen. 

''Now all I have to do is to watch, and when 
they are all at the table, and the Skunk family 
is there, too, I will fly over to the farm and see 
if I can find Mr. Dog. 

"I do not dislike him, as a rule, but this 
particular Mr. Dog has bothered me a lot this 
year. Now, why should he go out into the corn- 
field and bark so when I fly down to pick up a 
bit of CO ; I mean, pick up worms. 

"Yes, he must be paid ofif, and if everything 
works well I will break up that old club for 
the four-footed fellows and give Mr. Dog such 
a punishment he will not be thinking about me 
or the corn for several days at least.’’ 

That night Mr. Crow had to pick himself to 
keep awake until the guests began to arrive 
at the dinner at the Four-Footed Club, but he 
did keep awake, and after awhile the dinner 
began. 


THE UNINVITED GUESTS 


33 


They were all sitting around the table eating 
when Mr. Skunk and his wife, followed by their 
children, arrived. ‘'Why, we are late,'' said 
Mr. Skunk, as they went in. “We understood 
that your dinner did not begin until quite late. 
Mr. Crow told us not to come early." 

All the four-footed members stood up and 
looked in astonishment as the undesirable 
guests filed in to the club, but not one of them 
dared show by word or act that the guests 
were not welcome. “Don't get them angry 
for the world," whispered Mr. Fox to the ones 
nearest him. 

“Come right in and sit down," said Mr. Fox, 
in his smoothest tone of voice. “We will have 
a table fixed for you at the other end of the 
room. You see that careless Mr. Crow, who 
invited you, told us you could not come." 

But Mr. Skunk said he would not think of 
making all that trouble, and that they could 
squeeze in between the other guests just as well 
as not. They did not at all mind sitting close 
and the children were so small they could be 
tucked in anywhere. 

All seemed to have lost their appetites after 
the Skunk family arrived until Mrs. Skunk, 
looking across, said: “I am afraid we are not 


34 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


wanted. Everyone seems to have stopped eat- 
ing and no one has said a word.'’ 

‘^Oh, my dear madam, we are delighted to 
see you all !" said all the club members and the 
other guests, and up they all jumped and began 
to laugh and talk as hard and fast as they 
could for fear she would be spiteful, for well 
they all knew she could be. 

Mr. Crow heard all this from under the 
window where he stood. He knew that Mr. 
Fox suspected him and he was glad of that, for 
he wanted him to know he was the one who 
spoiled the dinner for the club. 

Then off he flew to Mr. Dog and told him 
about the animals. “You could have a lot of 
fun if you went over now. The moon is bright 
enough for you to see and they will never think 
of you at this time of night. My, I just bet 
they will run some !" 

This was more than Mr. Dog could think 
about and stay at home; so over the fields to 
the woods he ran and right up to the clubhouse 
door before anyone heard him. 

With a bound and a bark he jumped into the 
midst and everybody ran — that is, everybody 
but the Skunk family. They went right on eat- 
ing as if nothing had happened. 


THE UNINVITED GUESTS 


35 


Mr. Dog thought that was funny. He could 
scare every animal he had ever barked at, so he 
barked louder and then jumped at one of the 
little Skunks. 

Quick as a wink Mr. and Mrs. Skunk used 
their ever-ready weapon, and straight into the 
eyes and face of Mr. Dog, and before he could 
stop laughing Mr. Crow, from the window sill, 
saw Mr. Dog running as if he thought some 
dreadful thing was after him. 

Mr. Crow did not stay, either; he flew 
right away from that part of the woods to a 
tree far away, but before he tucked his head 
under his wing he said to himself, paid off 
Mr. Dog and the Four-Footed-Club, too. I 
certainly managed matters well this time. 

‘T have never understood the saying about 
killing two birds with one stone. It has always 
sounded very cruel to me, but to-night I think 
I understand it. I paid off two debts with 
one night’s work, for that Club won’t meet 
again for many a day ; not in that place at any 
rate, and Mr. Dog will be very busy, and if I 
am not much mistaken his meals will all be 
served a long way from the farmhouse. Oh! 
but I am a clever fellow, I am.” 


MR. BEAR’S FAREWELL PARTY 


r ' was about time for Mr. Bear to take his 
winter sleep, and as the deep-wood animals 
had been known to help themselves to Mr. 
Bear’s well-filled pantry while he was in the 
land of Nod he decided this year to give a 
supper the night before he curled up for the 
winter. 

He invited all the animals, the most impor- 
tant of which were Mr. Fox and his wife, 
of course, and Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel, Jack 
Rabbit and his wife, Billy Possum and Tim 
Coon. 

Of course there were many others, but these 
were the most prominent socially, as I said 
before. 

Such a table full of goodies as Mr. Bear 
spread for them — pies and cake and puddings, 
and ice cream, and plenty of fried chicken and 
roast duck. 

A great, big dish of honey was at the end of 
the table, and Mr. Bear stood beside that most 
of the time. 


36 


MR. BEARDS FAREWELL PARTY 


37 


The guests all ate and ate till they could 
hardly move, and when it was time to go home 
they voted Mr. Bear the most delightful host 
they had ever known. 

One by one the guests took their departure, 
until Billy Possum and Tim Coon were the only 
ones left. 

Mr. Bear was going about putting his house 
in order before he retired, for he liked to find 
everything in apple-pie order when he awoke in 
the spring. 

Billy Possum and Tim Coon were talking 
together all evening, but no one noticed them, 
all were so busily engaged at the table. 

Now they came from the corner where they 
had been sitting and said to Mr. Bear, ‘‘Dear 
friend, you have given all your friends a most 
delightful evening and we think it would be 
cruel to leave you to do all the clearing up 
alone ; we will stay and help you.’’ 

Mr. Bear was surprised at this display of 
thoughtfulness on the part of Billy and Tim, 
for they were never known to do anything for 
any one. 

“Yes, we will help you tidy up, Mr. Bear,” 
said Billy Possum, “and we will wait until you 
have gone to bed and put out the candle, for I 


38 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


know it must be very lonely for you to begin 
your long sleep without a friend to say good- 
night to you/^ 

Mr. Bear lived in his house all but the part 
of the year he slept, and for this particular 
nap he had a deep cave under his house. 

So when all the dishes were washed and put 
in the closet and the room swept Mr. Bear 
put on his flannel wrapper, took his candle and 
started for the cellar door. 

‘We will lock the outside door,’’ said Billy 
Possum, “and drop the key down the chimney, 
for they insisted upon seeing Mr. Bear right 
into his cave. 

No sooner was the door closed behind him 
than Billy Possum and Tim Coon began to 
laugh and wink at each other, and then Tim 
softly turned the key in the lock. 

“He is safe for the winter,” whispered Tim. 
“Now we will keep house for him. It can’t 
harm his bed to sleep in it or his house if we 
live in it.” 

“Or his preserves if we eat them and the 
other things he has stored away,” said Billy 
Possum. 

“I am tired,” said Tim, “I have not worked 
so hard in a long time. “I am going to bed.” 


MR. BEAR’S FAREWELL PARTY 


39 


‘Well, you can take it easy for the rest of 
the winter,” said Billy. “I don't suppose we 
need to have locked the door. He never wakes 
up till spring time.” 

“I shall feel very much safer with it locked,” 
said Tim, as he rolled into Mr. Bear's bed. 

Billy jumped in after him and pulled Mr. 
Bear's soft blanket over his head and was soon 
asleep. 

It happened that Mr. Bear wore a nightcap 
and he had forgotten to take it with him, so 
after fixing himself for his long sleep he sud- 
denly felt a coolness about his head. 

“My nightcap,” he exclaimed. “I just can- 
not sleep without it. I should sneeze all sum- 
mer, too.” 

Up jumped Mr. Bear and trudged up the 
stairs. “What is this,” he said. “They have 
locked the door; they must have made a mis- 
take and locked this door as well as the outside 
one. Well, I will have to break the lock.” 

Mr. Bear placed his shoulder against the 
door and pushed, but Billy Possum and Tim 
Coon were sleeping too soundly for the noise to 
awaken them. 

Mr. Bear stopped when he came to the door 
of his bedroom. Was somebody in his nice, 

4 


40 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


soft bed? He looked closer, and on one head 
he saw his nightcap, for Billy Possum had 
put it on. 

Mr. Bear tiptoed to the bed and looked 
closer ; he saw who was in his bed, and then he 
smiled a most unpleasant smile. 

He reached for Billy Possum, took him right 
by the top of the head and pulled him out of 
bed. He then reached for Tim Coon and took 
him the same way, growling all the time. 

‘‘Help ! Help r’ screamed Tim and Billy, 
thinking some dreadful creature was about to 
devour them. 

“You can scream, you scamps,’’ said Mr. 
Bear, shaking them until their teeth chattered. 
“No one will come, and if they did they could 
not help you. Take off my nightcap, Billy 
Possum !” 

Billy untied the strings and took it off and 
laid the cap on the bed, then he gave a groan 
and over he went on the floor, just as though 
he were dead. 

“You can’t fool me, Mr. Possum,” said Mr. 
Bear. “You may be able to fool Mr. Man, or 
Mr. Dog, but not Mr. Bear. 

“Get up this minute or I will throw a pail of 
cold water on you.” 



HE SAW WHO WAS 


IN HIS BED, AND THEN 
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. .1 


MR. BEAR’S FAREWELL PARTY 41 


Billy did not move and Mr. Bear grabbed 
him again, and with Billy in one hand and 
Tim Coon in the other he went to the window, 
putting Tim under his arm while he opened it. 

Then he shook them again and threw them 
out of the window. ‘T guess they will remem- 
ber that for some time,” said Mr. Bear. “They 
won’t play any more of their sly games with 
me ; I am glad I forgot my nightcap,” and off he 
went to his cave. 

Tim and Billy picked themselves up, they 
were so sore and lame they could hardly get 
home, and for a week after they stayed in the 
house nursing their lame backs. 

“It would have been all right if he hadn’t 
forgot that nightcap,” groaned Tim. 

“Yes, but he didn’t forget it,” groaned Billy 
Possum. “I had no idea he had such a temper 
either.” 


JACK RABBIT AND MR. TURTLE 


I T had rained for days. Oh, how it had 
rained, poured right out of the sky as if old 
Mr. Sun was drawing the water up from the 
ocean somewhere and then pouring it out in 
buckets full all over the world. 

The woods folk were in despair ; those who 
lived in the ground were driven to the top of 
high rocks and those who lived in the trees 
could not get out to get food excepting the 
birds, and they complained that the yards for 
miles around were covered with water and no 
crumbs or worms were to be had. 

Jack Rabbit sat on the top of a rock looking 
very forlorn and imhappy ; he had sat there all 
night and all the day before, and besides being 
very tired and not daring to fall asleep for fear 
of tumbling off the rock into the water, he was 
very hungry. 

Johnnie Squirrel chattered to him from his 
house in a tree, and told him he would gladly 
share his nuts with him if there was any way 
of getting them to him, and he would be glad 
42 


JACK RABBIT AND MR. TURTLE 43 

to give Jack Rabbit shelter if he could climb a 
tree. 

‘‘I wish Mr. Fox would come along, he is 
such a wise fellow,’’ said Jack Rabbit; ^^he 
would be sure to think of a way to get me off 
this rock to a dry spot.” But Mr. Fox did not 
come that way; he was having all he could do 
to find a place of safety for himself, for while 
he could swim and was tall enough to keep 
his head above water, it was no easy matter for 
him to find a place to sleep where he could be 
safe from the dogs and guns. 

So, while Jack Rabbit wished for his friend, 
Mr. Fox was a long way off, wondering if he 
would ever again have a home. 

‘Why don’t you ask Mr. Owl ; he is as wise as 
your friend, Mr. Fox,” said Mr. Squirrel, “per- 
haps he might help you out of your trouble.” 

“I do not think I should care for his advice,” 
said Jack Rabbit, “besides, there is no one that 
could help me but Mr. Fox; he would carry 
me to a dry place on his back, I am sure.” 

“Could I be of any assistance, sir?” asked 
some one close beside Jack Rabbit. 

Jack Rabbit looked around and saw Mr. 
Turtle slowly crawling up the side of the rock. 

“Oh, dear, you cannot help me!” said Jack 


44 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Rabbit, ‘'you are not large enough and I am 
sure you are having quite as much discomfort 
as any of us; you are so short/' 

“Why, my dear Jack Rabbit, you talk as 
though I never saw a flood before — I am better 
able to take care of myself than any of you; 
I can swim, you know." 

“Swim?" said Jack Rabbit, “why you cannot 
run ; you walk along so slowly and pokey 
through the woods, I wonder you don't get 
stepped on. Look out, you'll fall off and be 
drowned." 

But Jack Rabbit's warning came too late — 
off tumbled Mr. Turtle into the water and Jack 
Rabbit expected he would be drowned before 
his eyes, but, to his surprise, Mr. Turtle pad- 
died about with the greatest ease and came back 
to the rock. 

“That is rather a slippery place you are sit- 
ting on. Jack Rabbit," he said, “I shall feel 
safer here." 

He crawled on a stone that was partly cov- 
ered with water and sat down to rest. 

“Yes, I have seen many floods," he said. 
“This is nothing to the one I saw about a hun- 
dred years ago; I was quite a young fellow 
then " 


JACK RABBIT AND MR. TURTLE 45 

''A hundred years ago!’’ repeated Jack Rab- 
bit, ‘'how old are you, Mr. Turtle?’’ 

“Oh, about two hundred,” answered Mr. 
Turtle, “and as I was saying, I saw a real flood 
a hundred years ago. You would have been 
lost in that flood. Jack Rabbit; it came up over 
the rocks, and even the trees looked short, the 
water was so deep.” 

“Mr. Fox would have been drowned in the 
flood, wouldn’t he?” asked Jack Rabbit, begin- 
ning to think Mr. Turtle must be very wise if 
he was very old. 

“Yes, Mr. Fox would have been drowned, 
and, in fact, everybody was drowned but the 
few I was able to save.” 

“How did you save them?” asked Jack Rab- 
bit, becoming very much interested, and not 
thinking Mr. Turtle so much of a joke after all. 

“On my back,” said Mr. Turtle. “I saved 
an ancestor of yours that day, or you would 
not be here. Jack Rabbit.” 

“Did you?” said Jack Rabbit, very meekly. 
“Who was he?” 

“Why Jack Rabbit, of course,” said Mr. Tur- 
tle. “I carried him and his family to dry land 
on my back, and that is the way you happened 
to be here.” 


46 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


‘Terhaps you will be as kind to me, Mr. 
Turtle,'' said Jack Rabbit, in a very pleading 
tone, ^^and carry me to dry land, too; I have 
been sitting here all night and all day yester- 
day, too; I am hungry, too." 

‘To be sure I'll carry you," said Mr. Turtle. 
‘T was ready to do that when I first came 
along; in fact, I was looking for you, but you 
seemed to think I was so slow I could not be 
of any use, and that your friend, Mr. Fox, was 
the only one who could save you; now jump 
on. 

Mr. Turtle came alongside the rock and 
Jack Rabbit very carefully crawled down to his 
back and sat on it very still, his ears sticking up 
straight with fright. 

“You won't tip me over, will you, Mr. Tur- 
tle ?" he said. 

“No, no; of course I won't. Didn’t I save 
your ancestor? You sit still and I will soon 
have you on dry land." 

“Here we are, now jump off," said Mr. Tur- 
tle, crawling up the side of a hill, and Jack Rab- 
bit jumped without being told a second time. 

“Mr. Turtle," he said, “I am sorry I made 
fun of your slow way of getting about. I owe 
my life to you, and I will never forget it." 


JACK RABBIT AND MR. TURTLE 47 

^'Oh, that is all right/' said Mr. Turtle, '‘just 
mention it to your children so when there is 
another flood they will know I will look out for 
them. Good-by, Jack Rabbit, I may not be 
about here again for a hundred years or so." 

'T wonder how long he expects to live?" said 
Jack Rabbit. "Anyway, he is a kind-hearted 
old fellow, and I will not forget he saved my 
life. I expect a hundred years from now he 
will be telling the same story to another Jack 
Rabbit." 


GRANDMOTHER RABBIT^S STORY 
PTLE Patty Rabbit sat looking at her 



Li story book with a very dissatisfied look on 
her face. She was so interested in the pictures 
that she did not see her grandmother coming 
along the path and run to meet her as she 
usually did. 

''Why, Patty, dear, what is the matter? You 
look as if you did not like the pictures or stories 
in your book,’’ said Grandmother Rabbit. 

"Oh ! grandmother !” said Little Patty Rab- 
bit, dropping her book on the ground and run- 
ning to her grandmother, "I didn’t see you com- 
ing. I am so glad to see you.” 

"Tell me why you were looking so unhappy? 
Don’t you like your book?” asked Grandmother 
Rabbit. 

"Y-e-s,” said Patty Rabbit, "I like it some- 
times, but I get tired reading all the time about 
Peter Rabbit and Jackie Rabbit and Bennie 
Rabbit and looking at their pictures. I should 
like so much to read a story about a little girl 
Rabbit. 


48 


GRANDMOTHER RABBIT’S STORY 49 


''Don’t little girl rabbits ever do anything 
that would make a good story, Grandmother ?” 

"Of course they do, my dear. "Didn’t I ever 
tell you about Susie Rabbit that ate her doll ?” 
asked Grandmother Rabbit. 

"Oh! grandmother, do tell it to me!” said 
Patty Rabbit, dancing about her grandmother 
on her hind feet and her ears sticking right up 
straight at the thought of what she was about 
to tell her. "Tell me the story, quick, do !” 

Grandmother Rabbit sat down on the steps 
of Patty’s house and took her knitting out of a 
bag and as she knit she told the story of Susie 
Rabbit who ate her doll. 

"Once upon a time,” said Grandmother Rab- 
bit, "there lived a little girl Rabbit named 
Susie. Her father and mother were poor, and 
they did not live as you do, where they could 
get plenty of food, and she didn’t have a book 
with pictures in it, either. 

"Susie Rabbit never had anything to play 
with. She was lucky if she had enough to 
eat. 

"But one day Susie Rabbit saw a little girl 
with a doll going through the woods where she 
lived and ran home to her mother and cried for 
a doll. Her mother couldn’t get her a doll be- 


50 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


cause they did not live near a store, and if they 
had she did not have any money to buy one ; so 
Susie cried and cried, and when her father 
came home she was still crying. 

‘What is the matter with Susie,’ he asked, 
and Susie’s mother told him she wanted a doll. 

“After Susie was in bed that night her 
mother said to her father: T have thought of 
something; we can make Susie a doll.’ 

“ ‘How can we make a doll?’ asked Susie’s 
father, looking surprised that his wife should 
suggest such a thing. 

“ ‘I’ll tell you,’ said Susie’s mother, ‘you 
go over to the garden at the farmhouse over 
the hill and get me a big carrot and a head of 
nice crisp lettuce and I will show you how I can 
make a doll.’ 

“So away ran Susie’s father and got the car- 
rot and the lettuce and brought them home. 

“Then Susie’s mother cut the top of the 
carrot for a head and made eyes and mouth 
and nose of berries, and then she made a pretty 
dress of the lettuce with a ruffled skirt, which 
was long, so it did not matter if the doll did not 
have any feet. 

“She made a cape of one lettuce leaf and a 
little bonnet from a small leaf; the clothes were 


GRANDMOTHER RABBIT^S STORY 51 


fastened on with little sticks which Susie’s 
father whittled from twigs. 

There ! I think that looks nice/ said Susie’s 
mother, holding it up for her husband to see. 

Tt looks nice enough to eat,’ said Susie’s 
father, smacking his mouth. Susie’s mother 
sprinkled the doll with water, so it would keep 
fresh, and put it by Susie’s bed. 

‘Tn the morning when she awoke she saw it 
the first thing. 'Oh ! I have got a doll ! I’ve 
got a doll !’ she cried, laughing and running to 
her mother with the doll clasped in her arms. 

"Susie played with the doll for a while, but, 
as I told you, Susie did not have nice things 
to eat as you do, and a whole carrot and a head 
of lettuce all for herself was something new to 
poor little Susie Rabbit, so after a while she 
just nibbled a bit of the cape and then she nib- 
bled one ruffle. 

" T guess she will look just as well if she has 
only one ruffle on her skirt,’ said Susie, so she 
ate one leaf of lettuce. 

"After a while she ate the bonnet, and by 
and by she ate the other ruffle and the cape. 

" 'A doll without a dress isn’t any use,’ said 
Susie, so she ate the carrot, and that was the 
end of Susie Rabbit’s doll.” 


52 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


! grandmother, that was a lovely story,’’ 
said Patty. 'T think that is good enough to 
print in a book. Won’t you have it printed? 
Please do. I know lots of little folks would like 
to read about a girl Rabbit as well as about 
Peter and Jackie and other boy Rabbits.” 

So Grandmother Rabbit did as Patty Rabbit 
asked, and that is the way you happen to be 
reading the story. 


JUDGE OWUS CLEVERNESS 


M r. coon had lost a bright tin spoon, and 
it was not the first time that he had lost 
one. This time, however, he was not able to 
get it back from Mr. Crow, because he could 
not catch him using it. 

^'But I know Jimmy Crow has my spoon. 
There is no one else who would care enough 
about bright things to carry it off,’’ said Mr. 
Coon. 

^'But you will have to prove it,” said Mr. 
Fox, who was quite wise about such things. 
‘7ust because there are a few feathers in front 
of my house, and the farmer has lost a chicken, 
does not PROVE I took it, you know.” 

‘"No,” faltered Mr. Coon with a smile, ‘T 
suppose it doesn’t; but how am I to prove 
Jimmy is the thief, Mr. Fox? You are so 
clever — can’t you think of some way to help me 
get my tin spoon back?” 

‘'Suppose I arrest Jimmy on suspicion,” said 
Mr. Fox; “and, to be fair about it, we will 
have one of Jimmy’s tribe for the judge. He 
S3 


54 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


cannot object to that, and everybody knows that 
Judge Owl is very clever and wise/’ 

'‘Very well. You arrest him,” said Mr. 
Coon. 'T know he has my bright tin spoon, 
and I hope he has kept it bright. I would not 
care a rap about it if it is not shiny.” 

Mr. Fox had to wait until he caught Mr. 
Crow on the ground, and one day, when he did, 
he crept up behind him and caught him by one 
leg. 'T arrest you, Mr. Crow, for stealing Mr. 
Coon’s bright tin spoon,” he said. 

"Prove it!” cawed Jimmy Crow. "How do 
you know I stole it?” 

"We will let Judge Owl decide that,” an- 
swered Mr. Fox. "He is very wise, you 
know.” 

"He will have to prove I have the spoon, and 
he can’t do that,” said Mr. Crow. "He Has got 
to catch me with it, and he can search me if he 
likes; he won’t find it.” 

Judge Owl looked very solemn and wise as 
he sat on a low limb of a tree looking down on 
Mr. Crow and Mr. Fox and Mr. Coon as they 
sat on the ground. "We will hear what the 
prisoner has to say,” he said. 

There were many other wood folk there, all 
listening to what the judge said, but now every 


JUDGE OWUS CLEVERNESS 55 

eye was turned on Jimmy Crow as he began to 
speak. 

‘‘1 have not his tin spoon/’ said Jimmy, 
looking very boldly at Judge Owl. ‘‘You can 
search under every feather on me, judge, and 
you won’t find it.” 

Jimmy ruffled his feathers as he spoke, and 
all the animals began to wonder if, after all, 
Mr. Coon was not mistaken, for of course the 
spoon would have fallen if Jimmy had it 
hidden. 

“Well, perhaps you did not take it,” said 
Judge Owl. “I know one thing; the one who 
did steal Mr. Coon’s bright tin spoon hasn’t any 
tail feathers; he has lost every last feather.” 

“They were all there this morning,” said 
Mr. Crow, looking around at his tail before he 
thought what he was doing. 

“You are the thief, just as I thought,” said 
Judge Owl. “Go home and get that spoon, or 
you will loose all your feathers.” 

It was no use to deny it now. Jimmy Crow 
knew that when he turned around and looked 
at his tail and made that remark he had ac- 
knowledged his guilt, so off he flew, with a flock 
of Blue jays around him to make sure he did not 

run away. 

5 


56 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 

“Wasn’t Judge Owl clever to catch Jimmy 
the way he did ?” asked Mr. Coon as he sat in 
the moonlight talking it over with Mr. Fox, 
and Mr. Fox, who admired a clever trick, al- 
lowed that Mr. Owl was a very clever old bird. 



“they were all there this morning,” said MR. CROW, LOOK- 
ING AROUND AT HIS TAIL 






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4 



HOW MISS SPRINGTIME WAS STOLEN 


J ACK FROST is full of mischief, but he does 
not really mean to harm anyone with his 
pranks and snappy tricks, but old giant King 
Frost is a different sort of fellow. He will 
freeze things so hard and fast that sometimes 
even the warm work of Madam Summer can- 
not bring them back safely again. 

One night when it was about time for Miss 
Springtime to come to town old giant King 
Frost, who had ruled with a rod of ice all win- 
ter, did not want to go back to his ice castle. 

^Tf only I could catch Miss Springtime,’’ 
he said to himself, ‘T would carry her off to 
my castle and then I could come back and stay 
as long as I like.” 

He knew well enough that Miss Springtime 
would be very careful not to come out while he 
was anywhere about, and not till he was back 
in his ice castle would she even put the tip of 
her dainty feet into town. 

So it was out of the question for King Frost 
to catch pretty Miss Springtime. He must 
57 


58 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


think of some other way to carry out his wicked 
plan. 

‘There is Jack Frost/’ thought he. “Now, 
she isn’t really afraid of Jack and often she 
lets him come close to her I am told. I might 
get Jack to carry her off if he did not suspect 
that I wanted to keep her a prisoner.” 

So he awoke the sleeping Jack and told him 
he wanted to play a trick on Miss Springtime 
and he wanted him to help with the joke. 

Jack Frost, always ready for a lark, jumped 
up and ran down the mountain with King 
Frost, and here King Frost told him he must 
leave him, for he must hide behind the moun- 
tain. It would never do for Miss Springtime 
to suspect that he was anywhere around. 

“Let her come to town,” said King Frost, 
“and then you jump out from behind some place 
where you have hidden during the day and 
catch her when it is dark, and do not let her 
get away. Bring her here to this mountain 
and I will do the rest.” 

So off capered Jack Frost to do as King 
Frost told him and gaily came Miss Springtime 
tripping into town when the sun rose one 
morning, for there was no sign of the Frost 
King or even Jack Frost. 


HOW MISS SPRINGTIME WAS STOLEN 59 


But that night when the sun went down and 
all was dark and still, out crept the fun-loving 
Jack and caught Miss Springtime fast asleep in 
a garden. 

She awoke with a cry of alarm, but when 
she saw Jack Frost she laughed. ‘'Oh, it is you,’’ 
she said; “none of your frosty pranks. Jack. 
Run along, I am not afraid of you.” 

But Jack did not run. Instead he held Miss 
Springtime close in his frosty arms and off he 
ran with her struggling to free herself. 

Away to the mountain he carried her and 
there was King Frost waiting, for he had been 
watching from the top and had seen Jack catch 
her up from the garden. When Miss Spring- 
time saw old giant King Frost she gave a loud 
scream, for she knew that he was bent on doing 
something cruel and had got Jack to help him. 

“Carry me back. Jack Frost. Carry me back 
to the garden quickly. King Frost is cruel. He 
will not play tricks as you do just for fun!” 
cried poor little Miss Springtime, struggling to 
get free. 

Before Jack could ask King Frost what he 
intended to do, the wicked King had caught 
Miss Springtime from him and run over the 
mountain toward his home in the cold north. 


60 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Jack Frost started to run after them, but as 
he had planned to do some mischief for himself 
that night he turned back and ran to town, 
thinking that King Frost would bring Miss 
Springtime back when Rosy Dawn ran along 
the mountain top in the morning. 

Madam Summer had heard Miss Spring- 
time’s cry for help, so she told Rosy Dawn to 
look for her the next morning, but, of course, 
she could not find her. 

As soon as Mr. Sun was up Rosy Dawn ran 
back to tell Madam Summer Miss Springtime 
could not be found. 

‘Tt is old giant King Frost, who has done 
this wicked deed,” said Madam Summer. “He 
shall pay for this if he does not bring her 
back.” 

But King Frost did not bring her back; he 
had Miss Springtime fast locked in his ice cas- 
tle, and there he intended to keep Fer until he 
was ready to go home for good. 

Long Madam Summer waited, and each day 
Rosy Dawn sadly shook her head; •she could 
not find Miss Springtime. 

Of course Madam Summer did not have 
many clothes ; those she had were old and drab 
looking, but she knew she must forget her pride 


HOW MlSi) SFRiMGTIME WAS STOLEN 61 


and go forth to find Miss Springtime if ever 
the earth was to be freed from the grip of old 
King Frost. 

So one morning she went along with Rosy 
Dawn and from the top of the mountain she 
looked around. 

She was not dressed in gay clothes such as 
she usually wore and King Frost did not know 
her, so he did not bother to hide his home, but 
ran oif to it while Mr. Sun was shining to 
snatch a few hours’ sleep. 

‘^Ah,” said Madam Summer, as she watched 
him. ‘‘So that is your home, and there I know 
is poor Miss Springtime weeping out her heart. 
You shall pay for this, you wicked king.” 

Madam Summer went right to work. She 
ran down the mountain into the fields and gar- 
dens and over the ponds and ice-covered 
streams, but she did not go near the castle of 
King Frost. 

When night came, out came the King and 
looked about ; then he started to run down the 
mountain, but to his surprise he found he was 
not feeling strong; in fact, he seemed about to 
crumple and fall to the ground. 

“I wonder if Madam Summer has come,” he 
said, wiping the perspiration from his brow. 


62 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


‘T was sure she would not appear without her 
new clothes.” 

King Frost turned back to his home, but 
what a sight met his gaze when he reached the 
spot where his castle had stood ! 

Madam Summer had been there while he was 
away and on the castle and ice-covered forest 
she threw her warm breath and the castle was 
no more. 

King Frost had no place to lay his old white 
head, for Madam Summer had worked fast and 
sure and his icy realm had disappeared. 

With a mighty roar of rage old King Frost 
threw himself on the ground and tore his white 
locks, for Miss Springtime had not only es- 
caped but he had been driven away by Madam 
Summer before he was ready to go. 

Down he went into the frosty ground, his 
tears of rage melting for him a bed where he 
went to sleep to dream of his wicked deed all 
summer. 

Poor little Miss Springtime had wept until 
she was pretty no longer; rivers of tears she 
had cried, and as Madam Summer led her 
through the town she looked with wet eyes at 
the gardens and fields she should have made 
ready for summertime, all empty and bare. 


HOW MISS SPRINGTIME WAS STOLEN 63 


It was too late; she would have to go home 
now and wait another year, but no one blamed 
poor little Miss Springtime; it was all the fault 
of the wicked giant King Frost. 

Madam Summer did not blame her, either, 
though Madam had to do all of her own dress- 
making that year as well as other things, and 
when fall time came along she was glad to go 
to sleep. 


HOW SUNFLOWER BECAME AN 
OUTCAST 


T he Dust Imps had held full sway for 
many, many days, for the sun had been 
shining warm and bright and little Dust Imps 
grow very fast in the sunlight. 

The flowers and the trees were almost choked 
and were longing for the Raindrop Elves to give 
battle to the Dust Imps and put them to flight. 

One night when the garden flowers were 
heavy with dust and hanging their heads even 
in the cool of the night air a little rosebush 
growing by the garden spoke to the sunflower 
growing near by. 

‘^Sunflower, you are the first to greet the Sun 
in the morning,’’ she said. ^Will you not ask 
him to find the Rain Elves and tell them how 
much we are suffering from the pranks of the 
Dust Imps? 

‘^My buds are drying and I shall never be 
able to bloom if the Rain Elves do not drive 
away the Dust Imps soon.” 

Sunflower only shook her head in reply. 

64 


SUNFLOWER BECAME AN OUTCAST 65 


''Don’t you know that she is in love with the 
Sun and will never tell him not to shine even 
for one day?” whispered Honeysuckle Vine 
growing on the wall, "and, besides, those Dust 
Imps are up as soon as the Sun. 

"Now I climb high on a tree on the other 
side of the wall and I will save the garden 
flowers, for I shall catch the tip-top breezes as 
they pass tonight and tell them of the sad plight 
of the garden flowers.” 

Honeysuckle was a sweet, modest thing and 
though the garden flowers knew she was on the 
wall none of them felt that she really belonged 
to their set and they never noticed her. 

Rosebush lifted her dusty leaves. "I have 
always thought you were sweet,” she replied, 
"almost too sweet to be pleasant, but if you do 
this for us I am sure we will never forget your 
kindness.” 

So that night high up in the tree Honey- 
suckle caught a passing breeze and told it how 
the Dust Imps were choking and killing the 
flowers and if the Rain Elves did not hurry 
they would be too late to save them. 

Just before daybreak, "patter, patter, patter” 
came the Rain Elves on the trees and flowers 
and on the ground, and before the Dust Imps 


66 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


could jump up and give battle they were over- 
powered. 

I am sure you have noticed sometimes when 
the rain strikes the dusty ground that the dust 
flies up a little. It is the Dust Imps trying to 
give battle to the Rain Elves, but they are 
quickly overpowered and are soon at the mercy 
of the conquering Elves. 

And so it was on that morning in the garden 
when the Rain Elves came pattering thick and 
fast to save the garden flowers. The Dust 
Imps were soon limp upon the ground and the 
flowers were holding up their heads. 

And then it was that Rosebush spoke. ‘Tt 
was Honeysuckle that saved us,'’ she told the 
flowers. ‘‘Sunflower would not ask the Sun to 
find the Rain Elves, because she could not see 
her lover if the Rain Elves came. 

“If it had not been for sweet Honeysuckle 
we might have perished, and I for one shall 
always treat her as one of us after this.” 

“And I think that Sunflower should be pun- 
ished for refusing to help us,” said a stately 
Lily. “I have never felt that she really be- 
longed to our set, for one thing she is far too 
tall to be graceful and she is so countrified, al- 
ways gazing over the garden wall.” 


SUNFLOWER BECAME AN OUTCAST 67 


And that was the way Sunflower became an 
outcast from the flower garden and grows 
mostly in back yards, because she refused to 
help the flowers once long ago when the Dust 
Imps fell upon them. 

And often now Honeysuckle is seen on the 
fences of the garden where the prettiest flowers 
grow, for since that day when she helped them 
the garden flowers call her sister. 


JACK FROST’S SWEETHEART 


O F COURSE the Elf who awoke the Flower 
Elfin was to blame, but the sun was so 
warm he was sure it was Spring and time for 
her to bloom, so out she popped, but instead of 
the nice, soft, green cover she had always seen 
on the ground she found one that was quite 
white and soft. 

The poor little Elfin was terribly frightened, 
for it was cold as well as strange looking and she 
could not find her way back under the ground, 
but while she was crying along came Jack Frost. 

‘‘Hello,” said he. “What are you doing out 
here this cold weather ?” 

Of course Elfin flower was not a bit afraid, 
for she had never heard of Jack Frost and his 
cold breath, so she looked at him very sorrow- 
fully and told him her sad tale. 

“Well, well, that is too bad,” said Jack Frost, 
“but now you are out, suppose you come along 
with me to my festival that will be held to-night. 
I am sure you will get used to the cold and 
not mind it at all.” 


68 



so SHE LOOKED AT HIM VERY SORROWFULI.Y AND TOLD HIM HER 

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JACK FROSTS SWEETHEART 


69 


Jack Frost picked up the Elfin flower and 
carried her ofif to the crystal forest, where 
everything was ready for the grand festival of 
the Frost King. 

The Fairies were there, and the goblins all 
dressed in their fur coats, and when they saw 
the little Elfin they all asked her how she hap- 
pened to be out, for they knew that no elf or 
gnome ever comes out unless a fairy or goblin 
calls to them in the winter time. 

She was a pretty little creature, and they all 
looked slyly at Jack Frost, for as he had brought 
her to the feast they wondered if he had fallen 
in love with her, and as the evening wore away 
they were quite sure this was true. 

Jack Frost placed the Elfin at his right, which 
was the seat of honor at the table, and all the 
time he smiled and talked to her, almost forget- 
ting his other guests. 

When the feast and frolic was over and it 
was time for all of them to go home Jack Frost 
stood up and said: ^‘My friends and guests: 
As this little Elfin has become used to our cold 
weather, don’t you think we might make her 
a member of our winter society and let her 
always come out at this time each year?” 

‘‘She looks like a little rose to me,” said the 


70 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Fairy Queen. ‘T am afraid she will never be 
able to stand the cold, especially Jack, if you 
treat her as you do other flowers who happen 
to overstay their time in the early fall days.'' 

But Jack Frost was not to be upset by this 
remark. He smiled very sweetly at the Queen. 
‘'You, my dear Queen, can, with your little 
gold wand, do many wonderful things," he said. 
“Give this little Elfin a name and I promise 
that she shall bloom unharmed by me, and I am 
sure she will add beauty to the winter scenes." 

“It is Christmas time," said the Queen. “She 
shall be called the Christmas Rose and bloom 
each year above the snow." 

Jack Frost bowed low before the Elfin and 
said, “My Christmas Rose, I am glad to wel- 
come you as a member of our winter society," 
and the little Elfin, who was quite white before, 
blushed a pale rose color which was most be- 
coming, for I forgot to tell you she wore a 
green bonnet. 

Then everyone said good night and Jack 
Frost, taking the little Elfin by the hand, ran 
swiftly out into the night. 

“He is in love with her," whispered the fair- 
ies and goblins ; “we will watch and see what 
happens." 


JACK FROST’S SWEETHEART 


71 


If mortals could see what the magic folk do 
they would find when the Christmas Rose comes 
out each year that Jack Frost always is near 
and whispers to her that she is dainty and 
sweet, and that is the reason the fairies say that 
sometimes the Christmas Rose is white and 
sometimes a pale rose color — she blushes when 
her lover tells her she is beautiful. 

And while mortals call the winter rose the 
Christmas Rose, the magic folk call her Jack 
Frost’s Sweetheart. 

6 




WHY DAN DE LION GROWS WHITE 


M r. dan DE lion awoke one morning 
to find growing near him pretty Miss 
Daisy. 

Dan was ever bold, but this pretty little 
flower growing so close beside him made Dan 
bolder than ever. 

He turned his bright face toward her and 
spoke. ''Miss Daisy,'' he said, "in this beau- 
tiful world there cannot be two more certainly 
made for each other than you and I. 

"Just look at the yellow of your gown. 
Doesn't it just match the yellow of my clothes? 
Now what do you say if we are married and 
live in this field where the sunshine is bright 
and warm, as two happy lovers should ?" 

Miss Daisy shook out her white petaled skirt 
and looked down at the ground, then she turned 
a sidewise glance at Dan, who was swaying 
with impatience waiting for her answer. 

"The sky is so beautiful and blue to-day," she 
said, "I cannot think about anything else. Per- 
haps to-morrow I will give you my answer." 

72 


WHY DAN DE LION GROWS WHITE 73 


So poor Dan had to be content and wait until 
the morrow, but when the sun rose the next 
morning and Dan asked Miss Daisy for her 
answer she replied that the sun was so bright 
and warm she could think of nothing else. 

‘‘But,’’ she said, ‘'perhaps to-morrow I shall 
be able to think about your proposal and give 
you your answer.” 

So Dan De Lion sat all day with his face 
bright and happy because he felt sure the mor- 
row would certainly bring rain and then Miss 
Daisy would have time to think about him. 

The next morning the raindrops were falling 
fast on the meadow and Miss Daisy’s upturned 
face never once looked toward her lover. She 
was drinking the longed-for water and had no 
time to notice poor Dan. 

The next morning after the rain everything 
was so clean and fresh and all the flowers were 
so bright and happy that Dan again spoke to 
Miss Daisy of his love. 

“Oh, the world is so beautiful and fresh this 
morning I cannot think of anything else,” re- 
plied Miss Daisy as she flirted the dewdrops 
from her white skirt. 

But Dan was not discouraged, he still waited 
and hoped for his answer, but one morning poor 


74 ISANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Dan awoke with a head quite white. He had 
grown old with waiting and his long, white 
locks fluttered in the breeze. 

Then one day Miss Daisy grew tired of the 
beauty around her. She cast her eye toward 
her lover and to her horror she saw he was 
quite bald. Not even one spear of white hair 
was there on his head. 

''Oh,’’ exclaimed Miss Daisy, "how funny 
you look. Why you are old, Mr. Dan De Lion. 
I could not think of marrying you now. Good 
day.” 

And that is the reason, so the meadow flow- 
ers say, that the Dandelion grows faded and old 
with long white locks on its little round head. 
Long ago its ancestor waited so long for Miss 
Daisy’s answer that he grew old and bald. 


THE WHITE WORLD 


O NE morning Mr. Cardinal Bird opened 
his eyes very early, as usual, intending to 
fly to the white birch tree and sing before 
breakfast. 

He looked all around him and then he closed 
his eyes again, for a strange sight had met his 
eyes and he felt he must be dreaming. 

When Mr. Cardinal looked again he was sur- 
prised to find the world looked just as it did 
the first time he opened his eyes. ‘^My dear, 
get up and look at the world,’’ he called to 
Mrs. Cardinal Bird. 

Mrs. Cardinal opened her eyes and looked. 
''Whatever is the matter with the world ?” she 
asked, in alarm. "I never saw it look like this 
before. I don’t like it Where is our nice 
green world? I am sure something dreadful 
has happened.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal hopped to the end of 
the limb of the tree, where they had started 
housekeeping very early in the spring and 
looked around. Instead of the green grass 
75 


76 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


and trees and the brown earth they were ac- 
customed to, everything was white. 

They winked and they blinked and they 
chattered, wondering whatever was the matter, 
for they had never seen a white world before, 
and they dared not fly down from the tree. 

^Tt looks soft,’’ said Mrs. Cardinal. ‘T 
think we better fly down on the ground and 
try it ; the little I found on the limb here didn’t 
hurt a bit when I stepped on it and we must 
have breakfast you know.” 

‘^You stay right here, my dear,” said Mr. 
Cardinal, ‘'and I will fly about a short distance. 
It may be that somebody has put some flour all 
around this place. I feel sure the whole of the 
world cannot have changed in one night.” 

Mrs. Cardinal stayed in the tree and hopped 
about, turning her little head first one way and 
then the other, hoping to see some spot that was 
not white. 

By and by her husband returned. ‘Tt is all 
alike,” he reported to her. “The world has 
turned white and it is cold and wet. I do not 
know what will become of us birds. We never 
can live in this white, cold world.” 

“It seems nice and warm in this sunny spot,” 
said his wife; “come here and sit by me.” 


THE WHITE WORLD 


77 


‘^Good morning/’ said Robin Redbreast, 
alighting on a limb not far from the Cardinals. 
‘T was afraid we came from the South too 
early this year, but it will not last long.” 

“What is the matter with the world? 
What turned it white?” asked Mr. Cardinal. 

“Oh, dear, did you never see it this way be- 
fore?” asked Robin Redbreast. 

“No, never anything but green,” replied Mrs. 
Cardinal. “Whatever shall we do ?” 

“Don’t you know what all this white is?” 
asked Robin. “It is snow. It will melt soon, 
and then you can find lots of worms and good 
things to eat. 

“I have been caught in a snowstorm many 
times when spring started in early, but it 
always grows warm again.” 

“Oh ! I don’t like it,” sighed Mrs. Cardinal. 
“I like a green world best; I am so cold and 
hungry.” 

Grandmother Sparrow alighted on a limb 
nearby and heard what Mrs. Cardinal said 
about being cold and hungry. 

“Don’t fret, it will be warm soon and you 
will find plenty of food, for all the folks are 
very kind to the birds when the snow comes. 
You will find plenty of crumbs, my dear. 


78 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


^'And as for being cold, I will tell you how 
to keep warm until it grows warm again. 
Just fly over to that house you see and get 
behind a shutter or creep under the eaves that 
keep the wind off.’' 

Away flew Grandmother Sparrow and Mr. 
Cardinal and his wife followed her advice and 
flew to the house, where they were soon snugly 
tucked behind a blind. 

The sun melted the snow, and the next morn- 
ing when the Cardinals awoke the world 
looked just as it always had to them, and they 
found so many worms that they were almost 
glad the snow had come. 

‘T have learned one thing,” said Mrs. 
Cardinal, ^'and I never before knew just what 
the saying meant.” 

‘What is that?” asked her husband. 

“Oh! something about a touch of nature 
making everybody akin or feeling kindly 
toward everybody else,” said Mrs. Cardinal. 

“Well, what has that to do with the world 
turning white I should like to know?” asked 
her husband. 

“Everybody was so kind yesterday when the 
ground was white and cold. Even old Madam 
Sparrow, who is always cross and never will 


THE WHITE WORLD 


79 


let anyone have a worm without trying to take 
it away from them, yesterday saw we were all 
in the same trouble with the world all white, 
so she forgot to be cross and told us where to 
go to keep warm and how it would soon be over 
and all would be well again/' 

‘That is so," said Mr. Cardinal, “but I do 
hope that touch of nature, as you call it, will 
not come again while we are here, even if it 
did make old Madam Sparrow kind." 

“Oh ! I am rather glad," said Mrs. Cardinal, 
“for now I shall always think of the Sparrows 
more kindly than I did before." 


THE CATBIRD 


O NCE upon a time the birds were talking 
about the dangers of the woods and how 
hard it was for them to bring up their families 
when so many hunters came along with guns 
and bad boys sometimes stole their eggs. 

‘T am going out of the woods to live/’ said 
a little thrush. ‘T will live right in the yards 
where the houses are and that may help me, for 
who would think of looking for a nest right 
near where folks live.” 

‘‘You are very silly to take such a chance,” 
said the other birds. “And besides getting your 
nest robbed there is puss ; she will catch you.” 

“I don’t care, I am going away from here 
and try it,” said the little thrush. “It cannot 
be any worse than here and, besides, I shall 
have all the crumbs I want, and more worms, 
and I know there will be plenty of bugs around 
the garden of Mr. Man’s house.” 

So off flew the little thrush and left the 
woods to seek a home nearer where Mr. Man 
lived. He built a nest right in the big bush in 
80 


THE CATBIRD 


81 


a yard and took his wife with him, and one 
morning there were five little ones in the nest. 

There was a Kitty Cat living in the house 
in the same yard, and Mr. Thrush had his eye 
on Kitty Cat from the very first, so one morn- 
ing, when he saw her looking right up at his 
nest he told his wife to keep quite still and not 
leave the baby birds, no matter how near to 
the nest the Kitty Cat came. 

Mr. Thrush had been watching Puss and he 
had been listening to her voice as well. Every 
day he had tried to make a mi-ow, mi-ou, just 
as he had heard Puss. 

This morning he hid behind some leaves on a 
branch and watched Puss as she came under 
the bush and looked up at his nest, and when 
she was near enough so she could hear him 
when he began to call ‘'Mi-ow, mi-eu, mi-ow, 
mi-eu V 

Puss stopped and looked around. “There is 
another cat in the yard,’’ she said. “I won’t 
stand that. No cat can come in here and share 
my home. Now where can she be, I wonder ?” 

Puss stood still and looked all around, but 
she could not see the cat she had heard. 
“That’s funny,” thought Puss, “I was sure I 
heard a cat call.” 


82 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


Mr. Thrush hopped around to the nest and 
told his wife how he had fooled Puss, and then 
he taught her to make the same noise, so that 
after a while Kitty Cat did not know what to 
make of it, hearing so many cat calls and never 
finding a cat. 

One morning, however, she was determined 
to get at the nest, for she was sure the birds 
were ready to fly and would be gone before 
she had what she thought was her share, so she 
came under the bush and began to climb toward 
the nest, when up from the nest flew Mr. and 
Mrs. Thrush and their young ones, all calling 
^^Mi-ow, mi-eu, mi-ow, mi-eu, mi-ow, mi-eu.’’ 

Puss tumbled off the bush with surprise and 
stood staring after the birds that were mocking 
her. ''You little wretches,’’ she said, "I dare 
you to come here again. I’ll eat everyone of 
you if I catch you.” 

But the birds only laughed back at her, 
"Mi-ow, mi-eu,” and off they went to the woods 
to visit their cousins and tell them about how 
they had fooled puss and escaped from her, 
too. 

And that is how the American Thrush, who 
is really a cousin of the mocking bird, got its 
name of Catbird, for all the birds called them 


THE CATBIRD 


83 


Catbirds after that, and they never lived in the 
woods again, but always build their nests near 
where Mr. Man and Mistress Puss live without 
fear. 

They are very bold, too, for they build a 
large nest of dry twigs and weeds and never 
try to conceal it, but choose a bush or tree 
where it can readily be seen, and if there is one 
bird that puss likes to bother more than 
another it is the bird who mocks her by calling 
^^Mi-ow, mi-eu,’’ but they are all good fighters, 
and Puss seldom gets one, I am glad to say. 


JENNIE WREN TELLS MR. CARDINAL 
WHAT SHE THINKS 


L ittle JENNIE wren was not afraid to 
^ speak her mind to anyone who happened 
to get in her way, and it happened one day that 
handsome Mr. Cardinal bird did this very 
thing. 

He flew over from the top of a tall pine tree 
to the tree near the stone wall by the road 
where Jennie lived and began to sing while Mr. 
Wren was singing on a low limb of the tree. 

‘‘Such impertinence,” sputtered Jennie Wren, 
flying out of her home in the tree hole. “He 
thinks just because he is so handsome he can 
do anything he likes. I will soon tell him, 
though, what I think of him,” and up she flew 
near to where Mr. Cardinal was sitting singing 
merrily. 

“You get right away from this tree or stop 
singing this minute,” scolded little Jennie. 
This tree is where we live and my husband is 
singing; you needn’t think just because you 
wear handsome feathers you are the only 


JENNIE WREN AND MR. CARDINAL 85 


singer in the woods, and my husband and I do 
not care for your song at all ; we like our own 
much better.” 

Mr. Cardinal was so surprised that he 
stopped singing and listened, and when Jennie 
Wren stopped to breathe he said calmly : ‘‘Have 
you heard my sweet-voiced wife sing ? You may 
like to hear her song better than mine ; I do.” 

Jennie was the surprised one this time and 
she nearly lost her balance as she angrily 
hopped about and bobbed her tail, for she had 
expected Mr. Cardinal to quarrel with her. 

‘"Huh!” replied Jennie, ''your poor little 
wife ; I should think you would say something 
in praise of her. The way you treat her is 
disgraceful. I know, and everybody must 
think so, too, that you are ashamed of her be- 
cause she wears that brownish-gray dress all 
the time, while you go flying about all dressed 
up in fine clothes. 

"For my part I admire her clothes much 
more than yours. She shows better taste 
dressing in such modest colors, and besides, if 
she did wear red, I guess the Cardinal family 
would soon come to an end, for she could be 
seen plainly enough by those who wish to harm 
birds and get their eggs.” 


86 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


While Jennie Wren was scolding and hop- 
ping about a trim little bird flew to a twig near 
Mr. Cardinal, and when Jennie again stopped 
for breath, Mrs. Cardinal — for it was she — 
said in a very sweet voice: ‘‘You are wrong, 
Mrs. Wren ; my husband is not ashamed of me. 
He loves me very dearly and there is no bird 
that has a husband more devoted in his atten- 
tions than my handsome husband.'’ 

Again Jennie Wren was surprised, but she 
called back as she flew down to her home: 
‘'You poor thing; I suppose you do not dare 
say your soul is yo'ur own before your hand- 
some husband; for my part Td rather have 
one that is on an equal with me in appearance.” 

Mrs. Cardinal flew beside her husband and 
snuggled close. “Come back to the pine tree 
and I will sing to you,” she said, “though I 
know well enough your own song is sweeter 
than mine.” 

“Not to my ears, my dear,” answered Mr. 
Cardinal. “I think you have the sweetest voice 
in the world, but if you could not sing a note 
I should be thankful that you do not scold like 
Mrs. Wren.” 


MR. OWL AND HIS CALLER 


O NE day Mr. Owl was awakened from his 
sleep by hearing a tapping at his door; 
at least he thought it was until he went to his 
door and found no one there. 

^That is funny !’’ he thought. ‘1 must have 
been dreaming.” 

So back to bed he went, but had hardly gone 
to sleep when ‘‘Tap! tap! tap!” sounded again, 
and again Mr. Owl got out of his bed and 
opened the door. No one there ! 

“Now, can it be possible I cannot see a thing 
in the daytime?” thought Mr. Owl. “I cannot 
see as well, of course, as at night; but I have 
always been able to make out objects before!” 
So he poked out his head and looked again, but 
no one could he see. 

Back to bed he went once more, but hardly 
had he covered his head when, “Tap ! tap ! tap !” 
came again. And this time Mr. Owl opened 
his window and looked out, and there at the 
side of his house stood Mr. Woodpecker, tap- 
ping away. 

7 


87 


88 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


He stopped as soon as Mr. Owl raised the 
window and looked up at him. Of course, 
Mr. Owl thought he had made a mistake and 
instead of knocking at the door, had knocked 
on the side of the house. 

^The door is on the other side,’’ politely said 
Mr. Owl. ''Come around and I will let you in.’' 

So around went Mr. Woodpecker and Mr. 
Owl opened the door and invited him to 
come in. 

Mr. Owl was so sleepy that he could not 
keep his eyes open part of the time, and it was 
so dark in Mr. Owl’s home that Mr. Wood- 
pecker could hardly see. 

"I don’t see why he called on me,” thought 
Mr. Owl. "He must know I sleep in the day- 
time.” 

"I don’t see why he bothered me, when I was 
having such a fine time eating insects,” 
thought Mr. Woodpecker. "I don’t like call- 
ing, but he was so polite I could not refuse to 
come in !” 

Pretty soon Mr. Woodpecker said he must 
be going, and Mr. Owl bade him good day and 
asked him to call again. And back to his bed 
he went to finish his sleep. 

But hardly had he gone to sleep, when "Tap ! 


MR. OWL AND HIS CALLER 


89 


tap ! tap sounded on the house again. “Well, 
if he isn’t back !” said Mr. Owl. “I didn’t ask 
him to call again to-day. What a queer fellow 
he is! Now I may as well get up, I suppose, 
or he will keep on knocking all day.” 

This time Mr. Owl opened his door and went 
out. “You are knocking on the side of my 
house,” he said. “Why don’t you knock on 
the door? You will get in quicker then, and I 
shall not have to look for you.” 

“But I don’t want to come in,” said Mr. 
Woodpecker, tapping away at the wood. “I 
am too busy to visit any more to-day.” 

“You do not want to come?” asked Mr. Owl. 
“Then tell me why in the world you keep knock- 
ing at my house ?” 

“I guess you do not know who I am,” replied 
Mr. Woodpecker, telling his name to Mr. Owl 
for the first time. 

“Well, Mr. Woodpecker, will you tell me 
why you keep knocking on my house?” asked 
Mr. Owl again. 

“To get the bugs and insects,” said Mr. 
Woodpecker as he went on tapping. “Your 
house is full of them.” 

Mr. Owl was sure this was not true, but 
when he watched a while he found the old 


90 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


tree he was living in was just as Mr. Wood- 
pecker said, full of insects. 

That night when Mr. Owl went out, instead 
of hunting for food as usual he hunted for a 
home. 'That fellow Woodpecker will never 
stop tapping on my house until he has the very 
last bug, and that means I shall never have a 
decent day of rest unless I move.’’ 

So the next day Mr. Owl went to a barn 
near by and made his home and there he 
lived ever after, but Mr. Woodpecker never 
knew that he was the one who started the 
Barn Owl family by knocking on Mr. Owl’s 
house in the daytime and driving him out of 
the woods. 

Mr. Woodpecker did not even know who Mr. 
Owl was, and he told his mate the next day 
when he brought her to the tree that the funny 
old bird must have gone away. "And it is a 
good thing, my dear,” he said, "for you could 
not get more than three strokes of work before 
he would invite you in the house and in such a 
polite manner you could not refuse, and of 
course you can see how that interferes with 
our work.” 

"Of course,” said Mrs. Woodpecker, "that 
was the reason you were so hungry when you 


MR. OWL AND HIS CALLER 


91 


came home — ^you had not eaten your usual 
lunch.’’ 

^That was the reason,” said Mr. Wood- 
pecker, ^‘and now let us get at our work, for I 
am sure he has gone or he would have been 
out before this.” 


MRS. ROBIN AND THE SIGNBOARD 


O NE morning Mrs. Robin, who was the first 
one out of the woods, saw a sign nailed 
to a tree. ^^Now, what in the world can that 
be about?'’ she thought, flying around to take a 
good look at it. 

But, of course, she could not read, so she 
flew back to get Mrs. Blackbird and ask her if 
she could read what was printed there. 

Mrs. Blackbird said she had left her glasses 
at home, so she couldn't read. ‘‘But if you 
will wait," she told Mrs. Robin, “I will fly right 
home and get them." 

Mrs. Blackbird was a clever creature, and 
she did not wish to tell Mrs. Robin she could 
not read, so off she flew to a cornfield and did 
not return. 

Billy Blue Jay flew along while Mrs. Robin 
was waiting, so she asked him to read the sign. 
“Oh, I can't stop; really I can't," said Billy. 
“I have to go to the farm over the hill and back 
in a hurry." 

“I don't believe he can read," said Mrs. 
92 


MRS. ROBIN AND THE SIGNBOARD 93 


Robin as she watched him out of sight. 
will go over to Jim Crow’s. He surely will be 
able to read it. He knows all about signs.” 

Jim Crow came hurrying back with Mrs. 
Robin. 

'Why, of course I can read!” said he, as they 
came up to the tree with the sign on it. 
"Easiest thing in the world to guess what that 
is. It is a scarecrow, put up there to scare all 
you birds out of the woods,” said Jim, holding 
his head on one side and looking at Mrs. Robin 
to see if she believed him. 

"I don’t believe you can read at all,” said 
Mrs. Robin. "You said it was easy to guess. 
If you can read you do not need to guess 
at it.” 

"All right, all right,” cawed Jim Crow. 
"Don’t believe me then, but you ask Mr. Owl 
and see if I am not right.” 

"Why, of course ! He is the wisest bird in 
the woods,” said Mrs. Robin. "I wonder I 
did not think of him at first!” And off she 
flew to the home of Mr. Owl. 

Mr. Owl poked out his head from his win- 
dow, and when he heard what she wanted he 
said: 

"Oh, yes ! Of course ; I’ll be right over when 


94 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


It is dark. You know I cannot read in the 
daytime.’' 

''Oh, dear! I never thought about that,” 
said Mrs. Robin; "and I do so want to know 
what is on that sign! Well, I suppose I shall 
have to wait. Now don’t forget to come.” 

All day long Mrs. Robin flew about the tree 
where the sign was, and when it came night she 
decided to sit on a limb in the tree right over 
the sign so that she would not miss Mr. Owl. 

But Mrs. Robin was not used to staying 
awake after dark, and soon she was nodding, 
and before long she was fast asleep. 

There is very little that Mr. Owl does not see 
at night, and while he had no notion of letting 
Mrs. Robin know he could not read, he did 
want to have a look at the sign, so he flew 
quietly to a place near the tree and looked 
around. 

The very first thing he saw was Mrs. Robin 
fast asleep on the limb, and then he flew closer 
and looked at the big black letters on the sign. 

He flew away without awaking Mrs. Robin, 
and the next morning when she called to scold 
him for not coming to the tree as he promised 
Mr. Owl told her he did come, but no one was 
there. 


MRS. ROBIN AND THE SIGNBOARD 95 


So all that day poor little Mrs. Robin flut- 
tered hither and thither around the tree, asking 
everyone she saw what was on the sign and 
missing all the worms and bugs which the other 
birds were finding. 

Just at night time Jack Sparrow flew to the 
tree, and when Mrs. Robin asked him what 
he was doing so far from the farm where he 
had a nest behind the blinds. Jack Sparrow told 
her he was going to live in the woods. 

‘'Don’t you see that sign?” he asked. “That 
says that no one can shoot birds in these woods 
and so I am coming in here to live because 
it is safe, I heard the Farmer say he put this 
sign up, so I flew right over to make sure.” 

“You don’t tell me that is what is on that 
sign,” she said. “And Mr. Owl never told me 
a word about it.” 

Out of a sound sleep she awoke Mr. Owl 
to tell him what she thought of him. “Why 
didn’t you tell me what it said on the sign?” 
she asked. “I might have gone out of the 
woods and risked my life.” 

“You didn’t ask me,” said Mr. Owl. “I 
never tell anybody anything unless they ask.” 

And olf flew Mrs. Robin to tell all the birds 
in the woods what the sign said. 


96 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


‘That was a narrow escape for me/' said 
Mr. Owl. ‘T should have lost my fame for 
being wise if she had found out I could not 
read. Now I wonder what is on that sign- 
board, anyway?" 


SUZETTE AND THE BUTCHER 


S UZETTE was a doll, a pretty French doll 
' with dark eyes and hair that curled, and 
her clothes could be taken off and fastened 
with hooks and snaps like the clothes of a real 
lady. 

Suzette lived in a playroom with many other 
toys, but Suzette was by far the most stylish 
and important doll or toy in the room, for 
did she not come from across the big ocean 
and was she not made in a foreign country? 

‘‘Suppose I was made in France,'’ said Su- 
zette one night when all the toys were talking, 
“and suppose my clothes are dainty and pretty, 
don't you suppose I like to talk with you other 
toys?" 

“You all treat me as though I didn't have a 
heart at all, you never come over to my part of 
the playroom; and if I happen to come near 
when any of you are talking you stop at once 
and only stare." 

“We supposed you were stuck up and proud," 
said Teddy Bear, who found his speech first, 
97 


98 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


‘Ve had another doll in here, and she hadn’t 
come from France either, and she would not 
have a thing to say to any of us ; said we were 
just toys. 

''She wasn’t as pretty as you are either. Miss 
Suzette.” 

"Well, I cannot help what the other doll did 
or said,” replied Suzette, "but I find it dull 
and stupid sitting here night after night and 
no one speaking to me.” 

"We will all come over to your corner this 
very night,” said all the toys. 

A few days after this a very stylish boy doll 
was brought in the playroom by the little mis- 
tress and placed in a chair by Suzette. 

That night when the house was still all the 
toys came trooping over to Suzette’s corner for 
a chat. 

"This is Boy Doll who has come to live in 
the playroom,” said Suzette to the toys. But 
instead of smiling and saying he was glad to 
meet them, Boy Doll stared at them and then 
turned his head. 

The toys did not stay long that night, for in 
spite of all Suzette could say no one seemed in 
their usual humor. 

When the toys had gone and Suzette and 


SUZETTE AND THE BUTCHER 


99 


Boy Doll were alone he said to her : ‘‘Suzette, 
how can you be friendly with those common 
toys ? Why, you even talked with the butcher 
boy who has the shop across the room. We 
belong to a much higher order of toys; you 
must have more pride if you expect me to 
marry you.’’ 

‘T do not expect to marry you,” said Suzette, 
‘^and I wish you had not come here to live; 
the toys are just getting so they speak to me, 
and we were having such jolly times.” 

‘"Jolly times with the butcher and the jump- 
ingjack, and Teddy Bear, and the cart driver, 
and all those common toys,” said Boy Doll with 
a high and haughty air; “really, Suzette, I 
never could marry anyone who had such com- 
mon taste.” 

“Nobody asked you to marry me,” said Su- 
zette with a toss of her head. 

“Ah! but there is no one else for you to 
marry; you will be an old maid,” said Boy 
Doll. 

“We will see about that,” said Suzette, walk- 
ing across the room and joining the other toys, 
to whom she repeated what the haughty Boy 
Doll had said. 

The butcher, in his nice, clean white apron. 


100 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


stepped nearer to Suzette. '^Could you love 
a butcher man, Suzette?'' he asked. 

‘Tf he loved me," answered Suzette. 

^'He does," said the butcher, who was a toy 
of few words. 

So Suzette and the butcher man were mar- 
ried and Suzette lived on the opposite side of 
the playroom, where the butcher man had his 
little shop, and the Boy Doll, after a little 
while, went to live in a box in the far corner of 
the playroom. 

Sometimes of a night, when all the toys are 
laughing and having a jolly time in front of the 
butcher man's shop. Boy Doll peeks over the 
box where he lives and looks at them. 

^Terhaps after all Suzette is happier than I 
am," he will sigh. ‘‘No one cares whether I 
am alive or not." 

And Suzette, in her gingham dress — for she 
no longer wears her pretty French frocks — 
looks across at her old home on the other side 
of the playroom and says: “I am glad I live 
over here. I'd rather be the happy wife of the 
butcher man than live on the other side alone." 

“But you could have married the Boy Doll," 
the butcher man said to her. 

“Oh ! I had forgotten all about the poor bach- 


SUZETTE AND THE BUTCHER 


101 


elor Boy Doll/’ Suzette answered. wonder 
if he will ever marry ?” 

‘‘Not unless some other doll comes to the 
playroom to live, for I married the only doll in 
the room,” the butcher man replied, “and it is 
lucky for you that I did.” 

“How is that, you saucy man?” Suzette 
laughingly asked. 

“Because if you had married Boy Doll I 
would have sold you tough meat,” answered the 
butcher man with a laugh. 


LITTLE IMAGE MAN 


O NCE in a far-off country, in a temple, lived 
a funny-looking little image. His face 
was very solemn and he held his head up and 
his mouth a little way open, as if he would 
scream at the slightest touch. 

Not far from him was an Elephant — an 
image, of course — and on his back he carried 
a tall, towerlike affair. 

The little Image Man often looked at the 
Image Elephant, even though he did not seem 
to be looking at anything, and sometimes he 
saw little curls of smoke coming out of the little 
windows of the tower the Elephant carried. 

But the thing that most concerned the little 
Image Man were the gorgeous trappings which 
the Elephant wore. 

Over his back, under the tower, was a beau- 
tiful, colored covering of silk, and over his 
head, hanging down between his eyes, was the 
same beautiful silk, and from his neck hung a 
beautiful gold tassle. 

Little Image Man thought there could be 
102 


LITTLE IMAGE MAN 


103 


nothing in the world that could bring greater 
happiness than to ride on the back of such a 
gorgeous creature as the Elephant. Some- 
times at night when all was still he would lower 
his head and by the dim light which was always 
burning in the temple he would look at Ele- 
phant, and once he thought of speaking to him 
and asking if he would mind tumbling off that 
tall tower and taking him for a ride. He was 
sure the tower must be much heavier than he 
was. 

But he never quite had the courage and then 
one day something happened. A terrible noise 
was heard outside the temple and then the 
doors were thrown open and many queer crea- 
tures came rushing in. 

They were soldiers, foreigners, the little 
Image Man learned afterward, and when it 
was all over the Elephant, among other things, 
was gone from the temple. 

It was very lonely then, for little Image Man, 
and he sighed as he thought of all the images 
that were gone, but most of all, he missed the 
handsome-looking Elephant and wished he had 
asked him for just one ride, but now it was too 
late. 

One day the little Image Man was carried 
8 


104 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


away from the temple, and for a long time it 
was all very dark for him. He was being car- 
ried far away from the temple across the ocean 
in a box, but of course that he did not know. 

One day he found himself in a place much 
lighter than the temple had been, and when it 
came night and the place was very still he low- 
ered his head and looked around. 

There were many strange things all about 
him, but at one end of the table on which he 
sat was another image man, and to him he 
spoke. 

‘‘Tell me. Brother Image,’’ he said, “what 
is this strange place and why are we here ?” 

“This is a store and we are to be sold,” re- 
plied the image; “how we came here I know 
not, but I have heard that we were taken from 
a temple far off across the water where there 
was a war.” 

The next day someone came to the shop and 
bought the little Image Man and carried him 
way. 

He was put in a beautiful room on a long 
shelf-like place in front of a window and that 
night when all was still in the house the little 
Image Man felt something gently touch his arm. 

The light from the street came in through 


LITTLE IMAGE MAN 


105 


the window, and when the little Image Man 
turned around his astonished eyes saw the tem- 
ple Elephant, who had touched him with his 
trunk. 

It did not take them long to tell each other 
about the strange trip they had taken, and 
little Image Man told Elephant what he had 
heard in the shop. 

^Tt is much nicer living here,’’ the Elephant 
said. 'Tn the temple you could not see what 
was going on outside, but here all day I look out 
of the window and see strange and interesting 
sights.” 

And then one night little Image Man grew 
bold and asked for the ride he had so long 
coveted. 

‘'Of course I will give you a ride,” replied 
the Elephant, and down on his knees he went, 
and with the help of another image made of 
brass little Image Man soon had the tower off 
Elephant’s back and he was in its place. 

And so very often the maid coming to dust 
the ornaments in the morning finds the tower 
on the back of the Elephant crooked, and she 
wonders what could have put it out of place. 
“It must be the jar of the heavy teams in the 
street,” she always says. 


106 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


But little Image Man smiles to himself and 
thinks: ''We must be more careful about put- 
ting the tower back on Elephant’s back, or we 
will be caught some night.” 

And there they live — the little Image Man 
and the gorgeously decked Elephant, and when 
sometimes there is incense put in the tower and 
little streams and curls of smoke come out of 
the windows little Image Man wonders if the 
fire will burn out in time for him to ride that 
night; but it always does, and they live very 
happily even though they are far away from 
their native land. 


KNITTED GENTLEMAN NED 


O NE night a knitted gentleman, Ned, 

Tumbled out of his little bed; 

Hit on the floor with a terrible thump 
But as he was knitted it saved him a bump. 

He lived in the playroom away upstairs, 

With dolls and dogs and fierce furry bears. 

Although he was Imitted, he was very brave, 

And many a toy he had managed to save. 

One night, when the house was all very still, 

A mouse ventured out, as mice sometimes will. 

He lived in the playroom wall, you see. 

And that is the way it happened that he 
Stole into the playroom that night to seize 
A nibble of sugar, a crumb or some cheese. 

But not finding either, stood looking around 
Until in the corner Miss Dolly he found. 

Now, although her costumes were paper and paste. 

She dressed in the fashion and excellent taste; 

And whether the mouse fell in love at first sight — 

For Miss Dolly was pretty and the moonlight was bright — 
Or whether the paste which fastened her clothes 
Was scented afar by Mouse’s sharp nose 
Will never be known. But he passed one and all 
’Til he came to Miss Dolly, close up by the wall. 

There Mr. Mouse stopped, and his bright eyes did wink 
As he looked at Miss Dolly, dressed gaily in pink; 

He was trying to think just how a conversation 
He could manage to start, when, to his consternation 
From over his head knitted Gentleman Ned 
Tumbled suddenly down from his soft, snowy bed, 

Hit first on his stomach, then, taking a twist, 

He hit Mr. Mouse on the nose with his fist. 

Mr. Mouse gave a squeak and started to run. 

While all the toys laughed and thought it great fun; 

And there on the floor sat Miss Dolly and Ned, 

107 


108 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


While he told her just why he had jumped from his bed. 
“Though the others may think from my bed I did fall, 

I assure you, Miss Dolly, ^twas not so at all — 

I jumped to save you from that terrible beast; 

He’d have carried you off, I don’t doubt in the least.” 

Of course, they were married. In the playroom they dwell. 

And on moonlight nights the other toys tell 

How Gentleman Ned saved Miss Dolly one night, 

And sent off Mr. Mouse in a terrible fright. 

This is never denied by Gentleman Ned, 

But the truth, between us, is — he fell out of bed. 


CHINA SHEPHERDESS AND THE 
PICTURE 


T he Little China Shepherdess stood on the 
mantel in the parlor of an old farmhouse. 
She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked 
straight across the room at a picture on the 
wall. 

Little China Shepherdess leaned against a 
candleholder and one hand held a gilt crook 
as if she were looking for her lost sheep. 

But she was not looking for sheep even in 
the days when a wax candle burned in the can- 
dleholder behind her. She had no sheep. She 
knew nothing of sheep even though she was a 
shepherdess. 

For many years now the candlestick had been 
empty. She stood looking as of old, but now 
Little China Shepherdess was looking at some 
one. She was looking at the pretty boy in the 
picture and wondering where she had seen him 
before, for the picture had been hung in front 
of her only a few days. 

One day, when all was very still and only 
109 


no SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


the humming of the bees could be heard from 
the garden outside the window the little boy- 
in the picture seemed to smile at the Little 
China Shepherdess. 

He was a pretty boy with big eyes and curly 
hair, and on the top of his little head one curl 
hung down in the middle of his forehead like 
the little girl who was sometimes very good and 
sometimes bad and horrid, but this little boy 
was a good little boy. You could tell that by 
his sweet face. 

He sat in a chair that had fringe around it, 
and one arm rested on the arm of the chair, and 
under him was one foot which one little hand 
grasped as if he feared it might slide down 
beside the other which hung over the front of 
the chair. 

He looked right at the Little China Shep- 
herdess and smiled ; she was sure of that, so she 
smiled back. ^^Have I not seen you somewhere 
before?'’ she asked, for she felt it was perfectly 
proper for her to speak, as she had been there 
so long. 

The big eyes twinkled and the smile spread 
across the chubby little face of the boy. ‘'Of 
course, you have," he said. “Don't you remem- 
ber me?" 


SHEPHERDESS AND THE PICTURE 111 


seem to remember your face/’ said the 
Shepherdess, ‘'but I cannot say I ever saw you 
looking just as you do now. You are a new- 
comer, are you not ?” 

“Oh, dear, no!” laughed the little boy. “I 
have been here in this parlor for years, but I 
hung on the other side of the room right close 
to you, so, of course, you could not see me. I 
have just been hung here because my grown-up 
picture hangs in the place I used to be.” 

“Then I must be mistaken,” said the Little 
Shepherdess, “I’m sorry I spoke to you.” 

“Oh ! you needn’t be,” said the little boy ; “you 
have seen me before but not in this picture; 
think and see if you cannot remember. 

“I can tell you something that may help you; 
the hand with which you are shading your eyes 
is broken at the wrist and is glued on.” 

Little China Shepherdess turned pink with 
shame, for that was something of which she 
thought no one knew. “Oh how did you 
know?” she asked. 

“Don’t you remember the day it was 
broken?” said the little boy. 

Little China Shepherdess thought for a min- 
ute and then she smiled! “It was you, of 
course, I remember you now, you climbed up 


112 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


on one of the slippery chairs and took me in 
your hand and then you fell and dropped me 
on the floor/’ 

‘‘Yes, I did it and I am so sorry,” said the 
little boy, his eyes growing very sad. ‘'I was 
shut up in my room and could not have any 
dinner to punish me for coming in here alone.” 

“Oh ! don’t you feel bad about it,” said Little 
China Shepherdess ; “really no one ever notices 
it these days.” 

“But I have never forgotten it,” said the 
little boy, “and some day my grown-up self is 
to have you for his own and carry you away to 
the city, where he lives.” 

Just then the door to the parlor opened and 
a gentleman came in leading a little boy by the 
hand. 

“Here she is,” said the gentleman, and he 
took the China Shepherdess down from the 
mantel. “That is where I dropped her and 
broke her pretty little hand,” he said, showing 
the mended place to the little boy. 

“Isn’t she pretty ? I was always in love with 
her when I was little like you,” he said, “but I 
was naughty and came in here alone or my 
pretty Little Shepherdess would not have a 
broken wrist.” 


SHEPHERDESS AND THE PICTURE 113 


When the door closed the Little Shepherdess 
looked at the boy in the picture and smiled. 
“It is worth it, even if I have had a broken 
wrist all these years,'' she said. “I hope they 
do not take me away from here now. I know 
you love me." 

“Oh ! that will not be for many years, I think, 
and I shall go with you. I am sure of that," 
said the little boy. 

In the still hours of the night and when the 
house is quiet in the daytime the Little China 
Shepherdess and the little boy in the picture 
still look straight at each other and smile, and 
always they know, whether they speak or not, 
that the love of long ago is still young in their 
hearts and they hope never to part. 


LAFAYETTE 


LTHOUGH that is a name big enough 



for a big man, the Lafayette I shall tell 
you about is a dog — a French poodle, and for 
short they called him Fay. 

One day Fay was lying on a blue silk cushion 
in a window seat that faced the yard, and hear- 
ing a bark outside, he aroused himself and 
looked out. 

It was the bark of a yellow, shaggy looking 
dog chasing a cat. At first Fay turned up his 
pretty nose, as he usually did when he saw a 
common-looking dog, and was about to lie down 
again when something came over him that 
made him wish to watch what happened. 

The yellow dog barked and jumped at the big 
cat standing on top of a fence with her back 
humped up and tail bristling with anger. 

But jump as the dog would, he could not 
make the cat move. Suddenly Fay heard a loud 
bark, and, to his surprise, his nose went bump 
against the window. It was he who had done 
the barking this time, and in his excitement he 


114 


LAFAYETTE 


115 


had jumped, for he felt sure if the dog outside 
would only jump a little higher the cat surely 
would run. 

A maid came running to Fay to see what 
was the matter. ^^Oh ! Fay, must not bark at 
the horrid cat and dirty-looking dog,’' she said, 
patting him and shaking the silken cushion for 
him to rest on again. 

Fay lay down with a sigh. Something had 
come over him. He wanted to go out and chase 
that cat and he felt sure he could drive the dog 
away, too, for was he not right in his yard ? 

Then Fay began to think. “Lafayette,” he 
said ; “now what a name to give to a dog ! Why 
could they not call me Ned or Ted or even Bill? 

“My coat, too, is awful; all curly and long 
and white, too. I wish something would hap- 
pen to my coat that would make it black. 

“All the dogs in the park look at me with a 
grin when I go out with that maid and I used 
to think I looked so handsome that they were 
envious, but now I know they were just making 
fun at me. 

“I don’t wonder when I have to wear a dif- 
ferent colored bow every day on my collar. I 
suppose if I were black they would not dress 
me so silly. 


116 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


just won’t stand it another day,” growled 

Fay. 

*'What in the world is the matter with you 
this morning?” said the maid running to Fay 
again. ‘T never heard you bark and growl like 
this before.” 

Fay only winked his eyes, but his tail wagged 
in a manner that plainly said if the maid had 
only understood that he would show her when 
she took him out that morning. By and by the 
maid came back again, dressed for the morning 
walk. She tied a pink bow on his collar and 
also snapped on a leash. 

Fay jumped down and followed her with a 
forlorn air. He did not hold up his head or 
strut as usual that morning. He was ashamed 
of his looks for the first time. When they 
reached the park two stray dogs jumped out 
from the bushes and gave a bark and growl at 
Fay. It was too much. His fighting blood was 
up and as the maid was not paying attention to 
her charge. Fay had no trouble in pulling the 
leash from her hand, and off he went. Al- 
though the leash bothered him. Fay made short 
work of the two dogs, which were so surprised 
when he sprang at them that they dropped their 
tails and ran. 


LAFAYETTE 


117 


‘What fun!” thought Fay! ‘T am going to 
run away where that maid will never again 
find me. Oh ! I wish I could find a cat.” 

With leaps and bounds Fay ran over the 
grass and was soon out of sight of the maid 
and the policeman, who did their best to call 
him and head off his run. 

On a cross street a newsboy stopped Fay and 
tried to hold him to read the name on his hand- 
some collar, but somehow Fay managed to slip 
out of the collar and at last he was free. 

The frightened boy gave the collar to the 
policemen who saw him try to catch the dog, 
and off they ran after Fay, for they were sure 
there would be a good reward given for his 
return. 

But return was the last thing that was in 
Fay’s mind; he was running away and he did 
not want to return. What he wanted most at 
that moment was to find a cat. 

On and on ran Fay, and soon he was out 
of the neighborhood where he had lived so 
long. 

The streets were muddy, and as soon as he 
thought he was far enough away from the maid 
Fay rolled over and over in the gutter until he 
would never have been known for the spot- 


118 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


less and dainty looking dog that started out 
that morning. 

When he came out of the gutter Fay stood 
still for a minute and looked around. He really 
did not stand still, for he stepped about and 
sniffed and pranced, wandering which way 
to go. 

It was soon decided for him by another dog 
who came along. 

^'Hello said Fay, ‘‘isn’t this a great world ?” 

“I don’t know, is it?” asked the other dog. 

“Why, to be sure,” said Fay; “this morning 
I was on the other side of the world and I ran 
away and came over here, so it is not only 
great, but a fine world, too, I have discovered.” 

“I don’t know about that either,” said the 
strange dog. “I find it pretty bad sometimes 
when I can’t find a bone.” 

“What is a bone?” asked Fay, who had only 
been fed on bits of cooked meats and chicken 
when he had been given meat to eat. 

“Don’t you know what a bone is?” asked the 
strange dog, looking at Fay with wonderment; 
“have you no teeth ?” 

“Of course I have,” said Fay, showing his 
sharp teeth ; “but what is a bone?” 

“I guess you never lived around here,” said 


LAFAYETTE 


119 


ehe strange dog ; ‘'bones are scarce, but we do 
get one once in a while. Where did you come 
from? Did you say the other side of the 
world?’’ 

“Yes, a long way from here,” said Fay; 
“but what is a bone? You have not told me 
yet.” 

“Come along with me,” said the strange dog. 
“I’ll show you where there are a lot of bones, 
but I don’t dare take one — the dog who owns 
them is a fighter.” 

“Show me where they are,” said Fay. 

Over a fence and through an alley the 
strange dog led him, but Fay was game. He 
was out for an adventure and he would not 
stop at anything. 

When the strange dog came to a hole in the 
fence he stopped. “Look through there,” he 
said, “and see if that is not a tempting looking 
pile of bones.” 

Fay put his nose close to the hole and saw 
the bones, but they did not thrill him in the 
least. 

“What are they for?” he asked. 

“To eat, of course,” said the strange dog 
jumping about and looking through the hole 
with longing eyeSc 

9 


120 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 

‘They don’t look very good to me,” said Fay, 
“but if you like them, why don’t you take one?” 

“I told you that the dog who owns them is 
a fighter and drives away every dog who goes 
near them,” replied the strange dog. 

“Are you afraid of him?” inquired Fay. 

“I can’t say I want him to get me,” said the 
dog. 

“Pooh,” said Fay, “I am not afraid. I’ll get 
you a bone ; you wait here.” 

“You better be careful,” said the strange 
dog; “he will come out of that house with a 
bound when he hears you, and he is bigger 
than you.” 

Being big did not mean anything to Fay, 
for he felt he was pretty big himself. He was 
taller than most dogs he had seen, so he crawled 
through the hole and ran through the yard to- 
ward the pile of bones. 

With a growl and a bark out came the owner 
of the bone pile, but Fay stood still and looked 
at him, although he was a pretty big dog. 

“Get out of here,” said the Dog. “I’ll fight 
you if you don’t.” 

“Where did you get all those bones?” asked 
Fay. “I am sure you stole them and I am 
going to take one for a friend of mine,” not 


LAFAYETTE 


121 


that this was just the right way to look at it, 
but it is the way dogs reason sometimes. 

The Dog was surprised that Fay did not 
run as all the other dogs did. He was not quite 
sure how to act, but when Fay picked up a bone 
it was too much for him to see without trying 
at least to stop him. 

He jumped at Fay, grabbing him by the leg, 
but no sooner had he done so than Fay dropped 
the bone and turned on him and for a minute 
dogs seemed to be everywhere. 

And then with a loud yelp the other dog fled, 
leaving Fay alone with the pile of bones. 

Fay shook himself and looked at the hole 
in the fence. ‘‘Come in and help yourself,’’ he 
said to the strange dog on the other side. “You 
can have all you want now. He won’t come 
back.” 

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” said the 
strange dog, crawling through without a sec- 
ond invitation. “What’s your name?” 

This was the first time Fay had felt any- 
thing but pleasure, but now he looked crest- 
fallen — he just couldn’t tell the strange dog his 
awful name. 

“I say, what is your name?” asked the dog 
again, as he gnawed at a big bone. 


122 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


''My name is Bill/' replied Fay, who had to 
think quickly. "What is yours?" 

"Tige," replied the dog. "I hate it, and wish 
it was Napoleon, or something fine-sounding." 

"I think Tige is a nice name," said Fay; 
better than Bill, even, and I like mine pretty 
well." 

"Yes, that is all right, but some of those dogs 
that live up among the rich folks have fine- 
sounding names. I meet one in the park some- 
times. He is white and a maid is always with 
him, and sometimes he wears a pink bow or a 
blue one on his silver collar. I think his name 
is Fay, or something like that. My, he is a 
handsome fellow!" said Tige, still gnawing at 
the bones. 

"I don't believe he is as happy as you — I 
mean we are," said Fay, glad he was rid of 
the bow and collar. 

"Huh," said Tige, "I'll bet he is happier than 
we ever thought of being. Why, Bill, my boy, 
those dogs up among the rich folks have their 
food brought to them on a silver plate, I have 
heard, and all cut up ready to eat, and I have 
heard it said they sleep on a cushion, too." 

"What do you sleep on?" asked Fay, before 
he thought what he was asking. 


LAFAYETTE 123 

''On the ground most of the time. Don’t 
you?” replied Tige. 

"Oh ! yes, of course,” said Fay. "I thought 
you might sleep on a rug, though.” 

"Do I look it?” asked Tige. "I never slept 
on anything soft in my life. 

"But why don’t you try one of these bones. 
Bill. This is your party, and you have not 
tasted a bone yet.” 

"I was watching you eat,” said Fay, "but I 
will take one. I never ate one before.” 

"My, I didn’t think any dog could be poorer 
than I am,” said Tige. "But you must be if you 
have never eaten a bone.” 

The bone tasted much better than Fay ex- 
pected, and soon he was gnawing away as 
happily as Tige. 

"Is that your dog?” asked a voice. 

Fay dropped his bone and looked around, and 
there stood the maid and the park policeman 
and another policeman. 

The maid looked at Fay and then she said: 
"Fay, is that you, you bad doggie?” 

Fay made a dash for the hole in the fence, 
but this time the park policeman was too quick 
for him. 

"Of course that is your dog, Maggie,” he 


124 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


said. ‘‘He looks like a scrapper, though; not 
much like the white fluffy bunch with a pink 
bow you lead around the park mornings.’’ 

“Oh! dear, what will the mistress do?” said 
Maggie when she saw him. “And his fine 
silver collar gone, too.” 

“Oh! I know where that is,” said the other 
policeman. “A friend of mine has it, but that 
dog is no pet; he is a scrapper. You should 
have seen him whip a big dog that had all 
those bones.” 

“Oh ! what will the mistress say to her pet 
dog fighting ?” cried Maggie. “Come here, you 
bad Fay, and go home with me this minute, 
and I’ll give you such a scrubbing.” 

Fay wriggled and squirmed, but a cord was 
tied about his neck, and he was being led away 
when he thought of Tige. He hardly dared 
look a good-by for fear he would not look at 
him. 

Tige, however, was only waiting for that 
look, and as soon as Fay turned, Tige bounded 
beside him and licked his nose. 

“Go away, you dirty dog!” said Maggie. 

The policeman laughed. “Your pretty white 
poodle isn’t very clean looking,” he said. 

But it was no use. Fay would not go peace- 


LAFAYETTE 


125 


ably without Tig'e, and Tige would not be 
driven away, either, so off went Maggie lead- 
ing Fay, and Tige trotted along beside him. 

It would be too long a story to tell you all 
about it, but Tige hung around Fay’s house 
after he was pulled in by the butler, and Fay 
sat in the window and howled at Tige until 
Fay’s mistress was obliged to give in and have 
Tige brought inside. 

He was given a bath and a new collar was 
put on his neck, and Fay and Tige sat in the 
window on rainy days, when the maid could 
not take them in the park, and looked out in 
the yard for cats on the fence, but as cats are 
not fond of wet weather, Tige had to tell Fay 
all he knew about them. 

^^And to think I never got a chance to chase 
one,” said Fay. 'Terhaps some day we can 
run away again, and then you can show me 
where to find one.” 

‘"No,” said Tige, shaking his head, ‘%ere 
isn’t going to be any 'some day,’ Bill, my 
boy. I shall take no chances on losing this nice 
home, and you and I will trot right along beside 
Maggie every day in the park. I know what 
it means to be without a home and you do not, 
so you listen to my cat stories and think about 


126 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 

chasing them all you like, but let it end 
there/’ 

And Fay, being a sensible dog and very fond 
of his new-found friend, did as he said. 

I must tell you one thing more : Although to 
each they were Bill and Tige, to everybody else 
they were Fay and Caesar, so Tige got his fine- 
sounding name at last. 


REYNARD’S SCHEME 


^^OOMETHING must be done, and done at 
O once!” said Reynard one night as he was 
returning empty-handed from the farms 
around his part of the country. 

''All the farmers for miles around have set 
traps and are out hunting for all of us wood 
folks, and if I do not set my wits at work I 
shall starve; that is certain,” he continued. 

Reynard did not go to bed when he reached 
his home. First he stirred the fire and made 
it burn more brightly, and then he put on the 
tea kettle. Then he put on his old carpet slip- 
pers and dressing-gown and filled his pipe. 
When the water boiled in the kettle, Reynard 
made himself a bowl of hot ginger tea, which 
he drank, and, having gotten all nice and warm, 
he lighted his pipe, sat down in a rocking chair 
before the fire, and, putting his feet on the 
stove, he began to smoke, rock, and think all at 
the same time, which goes to prove that he 
could do more than one thing at a time. 

It was nearly sunrise when he stopped think- 
127 


128 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


ing and rocking. His pipe had gone out, but 
Reynard still held it in his mouth, because he 
could think better with it there, he said. 

have it,’’ he said at last, slapping his knee 
and jumping up so quickly that he upset the 
rocking chair, but he did not stop to pick it up ; 
he was too much interested in his scheme just 
then. 

Reynard went to his pantry, which was 
almost like Old Mother Hubbard’s, and found 
a crust of bread which he had overlooked the 
day before. This he put hot water over and a 
pinch of salt and ate for his breakfast. I 

He could hardly wait for the sun to be well 
up before he started out calling on the wood 
folk. 

Reynard called at Mr. O. Possum’s house 
first and then at the home of Mr. Rack Coon ; 
then he stopped at the door of Mr. J. Rabbit 
and Mr. Squirrel and then he knocked at the 
door of Mr. Bruin Bear. 

Each one he told to be at his house at noon 
time as he had something very important to 
tell them. 

Everybody hurried with the work that morn- 
ing, for they were all as anxious as could be 
to hear w^hat Reynard had to tell them. 


REYNARD’S SCHEME 


129 


After they were all seated on the ground in 
front of the house, Reynard came out and sat 
on the doorsteps. 

"'My friends and neighbors,” said Reynard, 
looking very serious and speaking in a seri- 
ous tone as well, "I have called you all here 
upon a very vital question. Of course you all 
know what vital means, so I will not stop to 
explain.” 

Each wanted the other to think he was wise, 
so they all said they knew perfectly well what 
the word meant, though they really had not the 
least notion. 

"We will proceed then,” said Reynard. "We 
wood dwellers have done a great deal of wrong 
in the past — we have stolen the farmers' vege- 
tables ” 

Up jumped Mr. J. Rabbit and Mr. Squirrel 
and Woody Chuck and opened their mouths 
to object, but Reynard held up his hand. 
"Wait!” he said. 

"And we have stolen the farmers’ poultry 
and his pigs, and even a lamb once in a 
while.” 

"I have not tasted a lamb in an age,” 
growled Mr. Bruin Bear, "but I should like to; 
I do not mind admitting it.” 


130 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


^Tlease be quiet, my friends,’’ said Reynard. 
'1 know, as I told you at the beginning, that this 
is a vital subject.” 

''Just as I thought; it means something to 
eat,” whispered Woody Chuck to J. Rabbit. 

Reynard continued with his speech. "This is 
a vital subject, and I know it will be hard on us 
fellows for a while, especially Mr. Rack Coon 
and Mr. O. Possum and myself, and even Mr. 
Bear, but I feel we must overcome our habits, 
which I have come to the conclusion are bad ; 
very bad, indeed.” 

Everybody sat up straight now and listened, 
wondering what could be coming next, for 
everybody in the woods knew how much Rey- 
nard thought of eating. 

"Yes, we must give up stealing food from 
the farmers,” said Reynard. "It is not right, 
and what is not right is wrong, and to do wrong 
is to be wicked, and I feel sure none of us wish 
to be wicked, my friends.” 

Everyone looked solemn as an owl, and said 
they did not wish to be wicked. 

"Then, my friends, we must stop going to 
the farmers around here and live on the things 
we find in the woods. I am sure we will be 
happier and better for it,” said Reynard. 


REYNARD’S SCHEME 


131 


‘‘Now, how many are willing to be wicked?'’ 
he asked. • 

Of course not one raised his hand or stood 
up, and Reynard said, “Good, I knew all my 
friends and neighbors wanted to be good, as 
much as I did, only no one ever mentioned it 
to them. 

“Now, from this time on, all of us are to live 
on roots and leaves and nuts and things, and 
never, never again go to any of the farms. Is 
that agreed upon ?” 

Everybody said “YES,” but no one looked 
happy but Reynard, and Woody Chuck told 
J. Rabbit, as they went along the path home, 
that he intended to make himself sure that Rey- 
nard kept his part of the agreement, for he 
never did trust him, and for one of the Fox 
family to have such sudden ideas about being 
good seemed very strange to him. 

Woody Chuck watched and watched, but 
not once did he catch Reynard going out of the 
woods, and he began to think perhaps he had 
wronged the Fox family, when one night he 
saw Reynard stealing out of the house with a 
bag over his shoulder. 

“Ah !” thought Woody Chuck, “now we will 
see, Mr. Reynard Fox, how good you really are. 


132 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


I suspect very much you are off for the farms 
to pick up a few hens or ducks/' 

And Woody was right, for out of the woods 
stole Reynard and over the hills he went, and 
when he returned his bag was filled. He 
had planned to have all the animals keep 
away from the farm until the farmers thought 
they had frightened them away and did not 
keep such close watch or set their traps any 
more, and then Reynard would have it all to 
himself. 

But Reynard did not count on little Woody 
Chuck; in fact, he had always thought Woody 
a stupid little fellow, but he was to learn better 
now. As soon as Reynard had left the woods. 
Woody Chuck scampered around to all the 
wood folks’ houses and told them what he had 
seen, and when Reynard arrived at his own 
door with the full bag over his back there they 
were all waiting for him. From behind the 
trees and bushes they all jumped until Reynard 
thought all the animals in the world had gath- 
ered there. 

‘^Good evening, Reynard,” they all said. 
^Wou are out very late to belong to our Good 
Club. What have you in your bag?” 

^'Squawk, squawk,” went a hen. ‘^Quack, 


REYNARD’S SCHEME 


133 


quack/’ went a duck, and Reynard did not need 
to answer ; they all knew what he had. 

‘We will expel him from the Good Club,” 
said Woody Chuck. “He is wicked according 
to his own idea of wrong doing and no longer 
fit to be a member.” 

Reynard looked very foolish and upset, too, 
but he brightened in a minute and said : “My 
friends and neighbors, you do me wrong, I 
have this night prepared a little surprise for 
you, knowing just how much you have denied 
yourselves by belonging to this club, and as I 
was the one who started the club, I wanted to 
reward you all for being such good members. 

“But like all good intentions, mine have 
been misunderstood, but I will explain if Mr. 
Woody Chuck will allow me to do so.” 

“Go ahead,” said Woody, showing his long 
front teeth as he smiled at Reynard in a most 
sarcastic manner. 

“If you can explain your actions this night 
and still be an honored member of the Good 
Club, we will be glad to hear you.” 

“I can and will explain, and in a most satis- 
factory manner, to all members, I assure you,” 
said Reynard. 

“I have in this bag two fat ducks, five fat 


134 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


hens and five geese, to say nothing of turnips 
and cabbages and a small pig for Mr. Bruin 
Bear. 

^This I brought on my back over all the hills 
to give you all a party to-morrow night and 
celebrate the anniversary of our Good Club* 
which was started just a month ago.’’ 

When Reynard had finished his speech every- 
body looked at poor Woody Chuck, but he still 
showed his long front teeth and said very 
calmly: ‘T feel sure this is a surprise party, 
Reynard, but if there had not been a surprise 
I doubt very much if there would have been a 
party — for us at any rate. 

‘‘But I am satisfied if the others are and 
shall not ask for you to leave the Good Club. 
But there is something I wish to ask. It is 
this: When you started this club you made a 
speech and spoke of the subject as being vital. 
Did you not pronounce that word wrong ? You 
meant victuals, didn’t you, Reynard ?” 

'Well, maybe I did,” said Reynard, glad to 
get out of such an embarrassing position so 
well. "Anyway, it is victuals to-morrow night, 
and a plenty of them.” 

"Make it to-night,” said Woody, not at all 
sure there would be a to-morrow as far as the 


REYNARD’S SCHEME 


135 


bag of food was concerned, and everybody else 
saw the point and said : ‘‘Yes, to-night is a fine 
night for a party.’’ 

When everybody had eaten all he could and 
was feeling happy, Woody Chuck arose from 
the table and said: “I think our friend Rey- 
nard has proved that this club is well named. 
This is a Good Club and this has been a good 
party, and Reynard is a good fellow (when he 
has to be) This last part he said to J. Rabbit, 
who laughed so hard he fell off his chair. 

“Oh! we are all jolly good fellows,” sang all 
the animals as they went home, but Reynard 
sat smoking by the fire, his feet on the top of 
the stove, and he rocked fast as he thought, 
“I wonder if that stupid little Woody Chuck 
caught me all alone, or did O. Possum or Rack 
Coon set him up to it?” He never knew, but 
the Good Club still exists in the woods, where 
they all live, though it does not mean the same 
sort of good Reynard intended it should when 
he started the club. 

The animals all like it much better, for it 
means something good to eat when they have a 
meeting of the club once a month, and every- 
body then agrees again that the Good Club is 
rightly named. 

10 


HOW MR. FOX PROVED HIS FRIENDS 


I T had been a very long, cold winter, and many 
of the animals in the woods had found it 
hard to get enough to eat. 

Mr. Fox, however, had not been one of those 
who were unfortunate, for this had been a 
very prosperous winter for him. 

The farmers had found it impossible to keep 
Mr. Fox out of their poultry yards and houses, 
and Mr. Fox grew fat while many of his 
friends in the woods grew thin. 

His friends had called many times at his 
house, knowing he had a well-filled pantry, and as 
they had many times had Mr. Fox at their home 
for supper and dinner they had expected now, 
when he had so much and they had so little to 
eat, that he would ask them to eat at his table. 

But Mr. Fox didn’t do anything of the sort. 
He would eat a very big breakfast, and then if 
anyone called he would let them stay and stay 
until they felt quite sure Mr. Fox did not intend 
to bring on any food for them and they would 
go away hungry. 


136 


MR. FOX PROVED HIS FRIENDS 137 


^They needn’t think I am going to hunt and 
run my legs oif bringing home chickens and 
geese for them,” he would say after he had 
closed the door on one or two of his neighbors. 

'Times are hard for all of us, and just be- 
cause I happen to be able to find something to 
eat I do not see why I should have to divide 
with all my neighbors. Friends are a nuisance, 
anyway. If I did not have any friends at all 
I should be far happier and could eat in peace.” 

One night when the wind was blowing and 
the snow falling fast, Mr. Fox looked into his 
pantry and found he had plenty of food for 
several days. "I will not go over the hill to- 
night,” he said ; "it is far too cold, and besides 
I feel like having a feast to-night. It is storm- 
ing so that all the neighbors will have to stay 
in instead of prowling around my house bother- 
ing me. I’ll just build up a big fire and bring 
out a nice fat duck and a chicken, too, and I 
will brew a big pot of tea and eat that big plum 
cake I brought from the house over the hill.” 

So Mr. Fox fastened his door and his win- 
dows, too, and drew the shades, so it was dark 
from the outside as if no one was at home. 
Then he put a lot of wood into the stove, and 
when the water boiled he poured it over the 


138 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


tea in a big tin pot and set it on the back of 
the stove. Then he pulled the table up close to 
the stove and put the big lamp on it, and from 
the pantry he brought the duck and chicken and 
a big loaf of bread and a pot of butter, and last 
of all he brought out the big plum cake. 

Mr. Fox then drew up his chair in front of 
the stove and began to eat. He ate and ate 
until the table looked bare, and then from eat- 
ing so much and drinking the hot tea Mr. Fox 
began to nod. 

Nod, nod went his head, and he was sound 
asleep. But what Mr. Fox did not know was 
that he was too near the stove and that the 
wood had made a very hot fire and that his 
coat was beginning to smoke. 

Up curled the smoke, and by and by a tiny 
spark showed on his coat tail and Mr. Fox 
began to cough from the smoke. 

He coughed so hard that he awoke. The 
spark had become a tiny flame and came right 
up in Mr. Fox’s face when he awoke. 

My, but he was frightened; he jumped up 
and ran for the door, upsetting the lamp as 
he went. 

Outdoors he ran, screaming ^Tire, fire! Save 
me, save me! I am burning up.” 


MR. FOX PROVED HIS FRIENDS 139 


Out of their homes ran all his neighbors. 
Jack Rabbit was the first to reach him. ‘‘Roll 
over in the snow/’ he said to Mr. Fox. 

Then Peter Rabbit and Mr. Bear and Old 
Reddy Fox came along and they threw snow 
on Mr. Fox, and soon they had Mr. Fox out 
of danger, although his coat was not worth call- 
ing a coat. 

“Oh! look at your house,” said Peter Rabbit, 
pointing to the smoke coming out of the open 
door, and sure enough Mr. Fox’s house was 
on fire from the overturned lamp. 

Mr. Fox ran for home, all his neighbors fol- 
lowing. Peter Rabbit got a pail and drew some 
water from the well and Jack Rabbit took it 
to the door of the house and Mr. Bear threw 
the water on the fire. 

Mr. Fox was so badly frightened he could 
not do a thing but stare with wide-open mouth, 
but his friends and neighbors worked hard and 
soon they had put out the fire, but the house 
was so full of smoke that Mr. Fox could not 
stay there, so Mr. Bear asked him to come over 
to his house and stay that night. 

But before he went Mr. Fox told his 
friends that he was sure that the pantry was 
not burned, and that if they cared to get 


140 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


in the pantry window they might eat all they 
found. 

It did not take Mr. Bear long to open the 
window and Jack and Peter Rabbit jumped in. 

They found a basket and into it they put 
ducks and chickens, bread and everything else 
they could find. 

They all went over to Mr. Bear’s house for 
the feast, and a feast they all had ; that is, all 
but Mr. Fox. He laid down on Mr. Bear’s 
couch and thought about the narrow escape he 
had, and that if it had not been for his friends 
and neighbors he might have been badly burned 
and lost his home, too. 

guess friends are pretty nice to have after 
all,” he thought. ^T’ll never again treat mine 
as I have this winter. The next time food is 
scarce I will share mine, if I have any, with my 
friends who are less fortunate.” 


WHAT HAPPENED IN A GARDEN 



'E day a very beautiful butterfly alighted 


near a rose. ‘^Rose/’ she said, 'T have 
stopped here that you may admire my beautiful 
colors. I am sure I am very kind and thought- 
ful and I hope you will appreciate it.’’ 

The Rose was a beautiful red rose and very 
proud of her beauty and fragrance. At first 
she was so angry she could not reply, but when 
the Butterfly spread her wings and turned 
around, saying, ‘T shall let you see me from 
all sides, for I know you have never before 
beheld such glorious colors,” the Rose spoke. 

^^You vain and impudent creature,” she said, 
‘^how dare you talk to me of beauty — I, who 
rule the garden because I am more beautiful 
than any other flowers? Begone! I care not 
for your colors.” 

^^Oh ! you are an ungrateful creature,” said 
the Butterfly, '"and, no doubt, jealous of my 
wonderful beauty. Why, my dear, just look 
into the pool of water behind you and you will 
soon hide yourself in shame. 


141 


142 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


'^You are all red, while I am blue, and yellow, 
and black, and each wing is so dainty there is 
nothing to compare with it/’ 

*'Hush, you vain creature,” replied the angry 
Rose, ‘^one of my petals is softer and more 
fragrant than both your wings ! Who are you 
that you should dare address me? 

^Tf it were not for the flowers, what would 
become of you, I should like to know? I am 
not at all sure you did not steal your colors 
from the flowers — the yellow from the golden 
glow, the blue from the violet. I suspect you 
were black before you took the colors from the 
flowers.” 

' ^‘Oh! you are jealous of my beauty; that is 
all,” said the Butterfly. ‘T only ask that you 
turn to the pool behind you and look. I will 
go, too, and you will soon see who is the most 
beautiful, my dear.” 

The angry Rose turned to look in the pool, 
and — snap ! — she broke from her stem and fell 
into the water. 

Butterfly, seeing the Rose was close to the 
water, thought she would have as close a view 
of herself, too, so she flew right on the water, 
and her pretty wings were wet and she could 
not fly. 


WHAT HAPPENED IN A GARDEN 143 

‘‘Oh, save me, Weeping Willow T' cried the 
Rose. ‘T will never mind anything that silly 
Butterfly says again.’’ 

So the Willow bent its branches over to the 
water and caught the Butterfly and Rose in its 
leaves and swung them safe to the shore. 

The Butterfly soon flew away, but she for- 
got to thank the Willow for saving her; and 
the Rose was picked up by a little girl and 
carried into the house. 

“Do you wonder that I weep?” asked the 
Weeping Willow of the Bush nearby. “I can- 
not help it when I see so much vanity and 
ingratitude all about me. The Butterfly did 
not thank me for saving her ; the Rose did not 
give me a parting glance when she found she 
was safe and to be cared for.” 

“But, surely, you did what was right. You 
were kind, and that ought to make you glad,” 
said the Bush. “I would not weep. You 
should be happy !” 

“Oh ! I weep not for myself ; but for those 
who are foolish and vain,” said the Weeping 
Willow. 

“I think that is a very silly thing to do,” said 
the Bush. “You will be weeping the rest of 
your life if you bother about the vain Rose 


144 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


and that silly Butterfly. Cheer up and be 
merry !” 

‘T could not do that/’ said the Weeping W'il- 
low. 'T must be true to the family honor and 
weep ; else we would not be weeping willows.” 

'The Rose was vain, and the Butterfly was 
silly and vain,” said the Bush to itself, "and I 
think the Weeping Willow is silly, too. Ir is 
going to weep all its life just because it belongs 
to a weeping family. 

"I am glad I have no family honors to live 
up to. What is the use of weeping when there 
is so much to laugh about in this world?” 

Just then a breeze came along and the Bush 
swayed and bobbed about as merry as if it were 
dancing. It had forgotten all alx)ut the Rose 
and the Butterfly. 

But poor, sad Weeping Willow drooped its 
branches to the water and wept over the vanity 
and foolishness of others. 


THE QUARREL OF THE MONTHS 


M other earth was getting her twelve 
children ready for the new year and she 
had called them all to her to see what was 
needed to make them fresh and beautiful. 

But before Mother could say a word to them 
they all began to talk at once. 

Mother Earth, who is very wise, told them 
all to be quiet and that each in turn should 
have a chance to speak. 

January, being the first to be sent out, 
thought she should speak first, so it was agreed 
that each should speak as they came in order. 

‘T start all the year,’’ said January, with a 
toss of her head. ‘T think I am the most 
important of all my sisters, and while I may 
not be as beautiful as some of them, I feel I 
should be given the most praise because I am 
the first month of the year.” 

‘T do not agree with you, sister,” said Feb- 
ruary, with a look of cold disdain at January. 
‘T am the most beautiful of all the months. 
Who can compare with me in my snowy robes 
145 


146 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 

and crystal trimmings. Give me the place o£ 
importance, Mother Earth ; I am your child of 
beauty.'" 

March had been bustling about waiting for 
her chance to speak. ‘Who dares claim my 
place?" she snapped. ‘T am the most impor- 
tant month who prepares the way for the 
spring. I ask Mother Earth, am I not the most 
important of all your daughters?" 

April, with tears streaming down her pretty 
cheeks, spoke next. “Mother Earth, I do not 
wish to take any glory from my sisters, but do 
I not give you water and make you smile? I 
feel I am at least a help of some importance." 

May, the laughing child of Mother Earth, 
spoke next. “Oh ! how happy I am," she said, 
dancing and singing around Mother Earth. “I 
really do not know how important I am, dear 
mother, but I know the whole world is glad 
when it beholds me." 

June, all blushes, her fragrant breath send- 
ing forth sweet perfume, spoke next. “I am 
the month that Youth loves best, of that I am 
sure," she said. “I am most important in the 
gardens, for what would a garden be without 
my roses? So I feel I should be given a good 
share of your praise. Mother Earth." 


THE QUARREL OF THE MONTHS 147 

“I care not for all that has been said, I am 
the warmest month, Mother Earth,'' said July. 
^^Give me the place of importance and your 
praise. Do I not make the whole world warm, 
and what would the vegetables do, I should 
like to know, without me?" 

^Wait, sister," said August, ^^0x1 and 1 are 
almost twins. I will divide the honor with you, 
but I will not allow you to take the whole of 
the praise from Mother Earth for being the 
most important month of all ; together we help 
to bring forth the vegetables and we keep the 
whole world warm, so together we will share 
the place of first importance, sister." 

September spoke next: am the one who 

brings the first cool breeze, therefore I must 
be of the most importance. Mother Earth, and 
the glorious days I bring are more beautiful 
than those of the other months, I am sure." 

^'October is the month of beauty, sister ; you 
have forgotten me, who brings to the world 
the glorious coloring that my days give," said 
October. ‘‘The praise should be given to me 
and the place of importance. Mother Earth." 

November spoke in slow, sad tones. “Some 
think I am the saddest month of all the year," 
she said, “and others say they love me best of 


148 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


all. I have not much to give, but what I have 
I give freely, and I am sure I must help or I 
would not have a place to fill.’’ 

December said she was the most important. 
‘Tet one of you deny it,” she said. ‘'Who 
brings Christmas cheer and makes the whole 
world merry, I ask you, sisters? I do; the 
question is settled. Mother Earth. You cannot 
deny your daughter December is the most im- 
portant of your twelve children.” 

All this time Mother Earth had kept quiet, 
but when December finished speaking she 
smiled sweetly on all her daughters. "You are 
all the most important,” she said, "for how 
could the year be perfect without each one of 
you in your turn? I love you all alike, so do 
not quarrel, my children, about which is the 
important one, for there is no choice ; the most 
important place in my heart is filled with you 
all.” 

The twelve months smiled and became 
friends once more. The Mother love had 
brought harmony out of discord. 

January kissed her sisters good-by and be- 
gan the year smiling with happiness and love. 


THE BATTLE OF THE WINDS 


O LD FATHER NEPTUNE says he does 
not cause the sea to make big waves and 
toss about the ships, and one day when a Little 
Mermaid asked him why the waves rose so 
high and made so much trouble for the sailors, 
he told her this story, and some little bird, fly- 
ing over the rocks where they sat, listened. 

A little bird, you know, always tells, and 
that is the way this story got abroad. Just 
whom he told it to cannot be discovered, but 
anyway, here is the story: 

‘‘Sit down beside me, dear,'’ said Father 
Neptune, “and I will tell you about the battle 
of the winds,” so the Little Mermaid curled up 
beside him on the rocks and listened. 

“One day when I was taking my nap at the 
bottom of the ocean,” said Father Neptune — 
“this was many years before you were born, my 
dear — I was awakened by hearing the trumpet- 
ing of the sea shells, and, jumping up, I went 
to the top of the water. 

“There I heard the North Wind in a very 
149 


150 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 

angry voice calling out : 'Get out of my way ; I 
shall blow wherever I like/ 

" 'Not if I can help it, and I think I can,’ 
answered the East Wind, blowing at a terrible 
rate toward the North Wind. 'You do not 
own the ocean ; get out of my path/ 

"Not thinking they would do any harm, I 
sat down on some rocks to watch them,” said 
Father Neptune, and the Little Mermaid was 
so interested and afraid she would lose some 
part of the wonderful story she did not say a 
word, but kept as quiet as a mouse. 

"Nearer and nearer came the North Wind,” 
said Father Neptune, "and the East Wind 
grew more angry. 'If you come closer I shall 
drive you back,’ it screamed. 

" 'I have never changed my course for any 
one, and I do not intend to be driven by you, 
Mr. East Wind,’ howled the North Wind 
furiously. 

"By this time I saw there was to be a battle, 
and down to the bottom of the ocean I went in 
a hurry,” said Father Neptune, "and called for 
my sea horses and chariot. 

"Then I called to Triton, my trumpeter, to 
call his helpers and follow me, and in a very 
few seconds we were at the top of the ocean. 


THE BATTLE OF THE WINDS 151 

‘‘Oh, my child, such a scene as met our eyes. 
North Wind had kept his threat to go where 
he wished and East Wind would not be fright- 
ened, so they had met in a terrible battle, which 
was raging when we reached the scene. 

“I urged Triton to blow his loudest blast and 
I waved my trident high over my head, my 
faithful sea horses dashed over the waves at 
high speed, but the noise of those two furious 
winds was above all. 

“The ocean, of course, was lashed into a 
terrible fury by the two winds and for a minute 
it seemed as if even my power could not still 
it, but at last one mighty wave, higher than all 
the others, my powerful seahorses mounted 
and I made myself heard. 

“Then in I dashed between the North Wind 
and the East and I separated them, driving each 
to his home growling and snapping all the 
way.’’ 

“But Father Neptune,” said the Little Mer- 
maid, as he stopped speaking. “I thought you 
were the one who caused the waves to grow big 
and the sea to roar and the ships to be tossed 
about.” 

“No, my child, that is a story which has 

been told so long it has come to be thought 
11 


152 SANDMAN’S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


true by many who do not know, but the truth 
is that when the sea is dashing and rolling the 
winds are battling and angry. 

“Why should I, who live in the deep waters, 
cause them to be troubled? Restless they are 
to be sure, but never do they grow troubled 
unless the angry winds are lashing them when 
they are having a battle.’’ 

“Oh I am so glad you have told me,” said 
the Little Mermaid. “I could not bear to 
think you made the poor sailor toss about and 
sometimes drown, for you are so good and kind 
to all your subjects it did not seem possible you 
were cruel to mortals.” 

“No, my dear, I help the sailors always, and 
that is the reason I will not allow you and your 
beautiful sisters to come out on the rocks of tener, 
because your wonderful beauty attracts the 
attention of the sailors who should be attend- 
ing to the ship. When he sees one of your 
family he forgets all else but you and some- 
times lets his ship run upon the rocks. Mortals 
have everything about us mixed up, for I have 
heard it said that I send you out to wreck the 
ships, but you know, my dear, that is not true.” 

“Oh! no, indeed, good Father Neptune, we 
know quite well that is not true, for you keep 


THE BATTLE OF THE WINDS 153 

US under the water always when a ship sails 
along/' 

^Well, here comes one now," said Father 
Neptune. ‘‘Jump into the sea and run home 
before more harm is laid to us." 


CALLA LILY’S COUSIN 


O NE day little Jack-in-the-Pulpit was tell- 
ing the wild flowers about him how won- 
derful was the world in which they lived. 

'‘Just think,” he was saying, "how fortunate 
are we to be out here growing in the light and 
fresh air when all those flowers we can see 
through the big glass windows have to live in- 
side and never breathe the clear, crisp air. 

"And here we are close to this stream and 
those poor hothouse plants have to wait until 
someone brings water to them. We should be 
very thankful for all our comforts, and though 
those flowers look very pretty through the big 
windows, I am quite sure they often wish they 
were out here with us.” 

Right near the window of the conservatory, 
which was what Jack meant by the big glass 
windows, grew a stately Calla Lily in a big pot. 
She often looked out at the modest wild flowers 
that happened to be growing near the little 
stream which ran along by the conservatory. 
Often the wild flowers had nodded to the 
154 


CALLA LILY’S COUSIN 


155 


hot house flowers and some of them had bent 
a little in answer, but not the stately Calla Lily. 
She pretended she did not see them or their 
friendly nod. 

And there was a reason for this, for Calla 
knew that Jack-in-the-Pulpit was a relative of 
hers — distant, to be sure, but still he was re- 
lated, and if one stopped to look and compare 
Calla and Jack they would see at once a family 
resemblance. 

Calla’s dainty, wax-like cup resembles Jack’s 
greenish-brown pulpit, and Calla’ s pretty, yel- 
low, upright center resembles in shape Jack 
himself as he stands beneath the curved pulpit. 
And that was the reason Calla Lily did not 
nod or notice the little wild flowers outside her 
glass home; she was afraid that someone would 
know that she and humble little Jack were cous- 
ins, for she supposed that Jack knew it and 
was bragging to the other wild flowers about it. 

'They will be sure to tell it to some of the 
flowers standing near the door some day when 
the gardener leaves the door open,” Calla Lily 
was thinking to herself, "and I would not for 
the world have the hothouse plants know that 
I, the queen of this place, have a relative such 
as that common little Jack.” 


156 SANDMAN^S MIGHT-BE-SO STORIES 


The truth of the matter was that Jack knew 
nothing about the stately relative growing in- 
side the hothouse, and if he had he would have 
pitied her, for he was quite happy and satisfied 
growing out in the air and light and would not 
have changed places with Calla for all her 
beauty and stately bearing. 

He loved the woods and the moist spot where 
he grew and his friends that grew about him. 

There were the fickle, late-coming wind- 
flowers, and though they never tarried. Jack 
was always glad to see them and hear them 
prattle of the sights they expected to see, and 
their farewell flutters as they sailed away 
always made Jack glad he did not care to roam, 
as they did. 

There were the wild Lilies-of-the-Valley ; 
they were friends of Jack's also, and he felt 
they had much in common, for their name was 
as long as his; there were the birds and the 
trees, too. Jack was happy in his wild home 
and gave no thought to high-toned relatives. 

But if Calla Lily had but known it there was 
another Jack not far from the one she could see 
from the window, of whom she had more to 
fear, for he bore much more striking resem- 
blance to the stately Lily than the other Jack. 


CALLA LILY’S COUSIN 


157 


This second Jack-in-the-Pulpit had a green- 
ish-white covering which looked very much like 
Calla’s wax white cup, and if some time you are 
in the place where the little Jacks grow, and 
you look, you may be fortunate enough to find 
this other Jack under the greenish- white pulpit, 
though this is not so common a variety as the 
dark-colored Jacks. 

But you can be sure both Jacks would rather 
live in their airy, light homes in the woods than 
in the glass house where their stately cousin 
Calla Lily lives. 


THE END 


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